Hardly Rational
by xErised
Summary: Driven out of his mind about his affections for Draco, Harry seeks urgent help from the resident love guru of Hogwarts: Luna Lovegood. Hogwarts-era. HP/DM. Complete.
1. The Marvelous Spectrespecs

**Hardly Rational by xErised**

**The Marvels Of A Properly Utilized Pair of Spectrespecs**

* * *

Harry's mind was currently bordering on insanity.

He had initially see-sawed between a bout of disbelief, a flurry of excitement and sizzling lust, and a longing hope that it would all go away eventually, but oh no, Harry's misdirected and entirely inappropriate ardor for Draco Malfoy had lingered and stayed mulishly like a particularly well-executed love bite, and there was absolutely nothing that Harry could do about it.

His eyes were like the prettiest ice-grey licks of flickering flames that were fringed with whispers of silver blaze, and his lilting laughter was like the dreamy quality of a ballad, and his hair, oh, how many sleepless nights Harry had endured, just thinking, _fantasizing_ about combing his fingers through the flaxen locks of the angelic blond!

Harry had never fallen so damn hard for anyone before.

Granted, the 'whispers of silver blaze' in Draco's eyes were probably the anger and jeers that Draco had directed freely towards Harry, and the 'dreamy quality' of Draco's laughter was when the Slytherin was laughing _at_ him, not _with_ him, and well, the only chance that Harry would get to 'comb his fingers' through Draco's hair was oh no, not in the throes of passion as Harry dreamt about, but probably when the both of them were punching the living daylights out of each other.

Not a very bright outlook of reality, but how Draco set Harry on fire, and how Harry wanted to melt the arctic doubts that lay concealed challengingly behind Draco's eyes!

Cho's pure jet-black hair had been nothing but a smear on the landscape compared to his teenage crush on Draco, it was obvious that redheads didn't do anything for Harry, judging by the fact that he only lasted with Ginny for a week, and Cedric's gorgeous brown hair did send his pulse racing, but blond, ooh la _la_, earth-shattering, mind-blowing and orgasm-causing _blond _was in a whole new league altogether.

Blond wasn't just beautiful, blond was bloody _sodding_ brilliant!

"Harry, mate, you're stirring your orange juice with your quill."

With that, a thoroughly smitten Harry jerked himself rudely out of his whimsical smog of adoration and reined his thoughts into safer territory. And, true to Ron's words, Harry had indeed been mutilating his orange juice with globules of ink while his mind had been scurrying off into a marvelous, impossible world where Harry could simply get Draco Malfoy butt-naked with just a mere snap of his fingers-

The brunette cursed under his breath as he extricated his poor quill from his goblet and wiped it on his robes. His half-drunk orange juice gave one last, sad swirl before dissolving completely into the deluge of inky blackness.

Hermione and Ron shared a Look.

The trio of eighteen-year-olds was seated in the Great Hall for their usual routine of morning breakfast, and Harry's books and parchment were sprawled all over the breakfast table as he tried to scrawl through his homework in a last minute bid to complete his essays before class started. It had become some sort of a habit for the past week, simply because Harry wasn't concentrating during classes, and also because of his sleepless nights, mainly with only his right hand for company in bed (Ron could vigorously attest to that fact).

"Harry, all of this pining away isn't good for your health," Hermione pointed out in her characteristic matter-of-fact tone. Ron let out a displeased huff, but the redhead maintained his silence, choosing to shovel in more scrambled eggs in his mouth.

Harry froze in his actions to dry his quill off, his eyes as round as full moons as he absorbed the hidden meaning behind Hermione's words. He had tried to keep his feelings (obsessions) as quiet as possible, because he knew that his two best friends might not be too thrilled about it. Harry could imagine it now; the downward tug of Hermione's lips, signaling her passive disapproval, and Ron…

Ron would _crap_ himself if he knew.

"P-Pining away? For orange juice? There's no such thing at all! I could get milk, or pumpkin juice, or… apple juice, I love juices! Juices are the _best_ thing in the world!" Harry blurted out and squeaked out a laugh at the end, thinking that he sounded rather mad.

As though he was emphasizing his point, a widely-grinning (unthinking) Harry took a long, hard swig of his inky orange juice.

Ron could only disguise his snort of laughter behind a cough, and Hermione sighed in distress, resting her forehead against her palm when Harry hurriedly spat out his mouthful of ink amidst mutters of "_Shit, I totally forgot_-".

"We're not as dense as you make us out to be when it comes to matters of the heart," Hermione started, but back-tracked and corrected herself, "Well,_ Ron_ is, but I realized that you fancied Draco like mad, but I didn't say anything about it, because I thought it might just be a passing thing, but you've already been liking him for the past two months-"

"It's fifty four days and six hours as of right now, Hermione," Harry remedied without missing a beat, his eyes centered fully on the blond yet again, his heart pirouetting to its own rhythm and reverie of pink, candy-coated love.

Ron and Hermione could only stare at him.

"Merlin, I've got it bad, haven't I?" Harry moaned, his head sinking and his face crumpling as he took stock of what he had just said.

Hermione only managed to catch Harry narrowly before the poor boy accidentally dunked his head into his bowl of cornflakes.

"I had to let Ron know about it so that he wouldn't go ballistic with fury when he eventually learnt about it, and besides, we're your friends, Harry! You shouldn't be keeping such things from us," Hermione exclaimed and patted Harry's hand consolingly.

"How did you know? And… does it mean that you two are…_ okay _with it?" The brunette asked as he exhaled heavily and tossed his studying paraphernalia messily in his bag. There was no way that he could think about homework now.

"Well, we did take into consideration your tendency to doodle the initials HPDM on your parchment during classes with a dreamy, sometimes lustful smile on your face," Hermione said with as straight a face that she could summon, eliciting a flustered squeal from Harry.

"It's not really much of a story, is it? You make advances to Malfoy, he rejects you with one of his biting remarks, thus breaking your fragile heart into smithereens and swearing you off love forever, well, that is, until the next good-looking bloke comes along. He's _Malfoy_, for Merlin's sake!" Ron blustered insensitively, earning a Stern Glare from Hermione.

"It's not going to be that disastrous, is it? There could be… you know, a remote possibility that he could… like me back just a little bit? I mean, the War's already over and done with, so we could… start on a fresh slate all over again, couldn't we?"

With that trigger, Ron and Hermione immediately turned their heads back towards the Slytherin table, where the much-discussed Draco Malfoy was taking zero notice of the Gryffindors.

"No, don't look at him all at once!" Harry hissed frantically, and let out a miserable sigh when Draco deigned to sweep the trio with a searching glimpse of a look, his eyebrow raised in dainty query. The brunette's face was flooded with pink, fluffy clouds of embarrassment as he quickly looked down at his cornflakes, prodding the soggy bits with the curve of his spoon.

"Draco hasn't tried to establish any contact with you ever since the new school year has started, Harry, nor has he returned the lovelorn looks that you've been shooting in his direction, so I highly doubt that he is interested in you, so obviously, you've got to make the first step," Hermione said, her voice as patient as a saint. She placed her utensils down on the table primly, bunched her unruly hair up and pushed it to the back in a business-like manner.

"W-What first step? There will be no steps at all!" Harry protested heatedly, his eyes widening with consternation and his head shaking furiously.

"Don't you want to hold him in your arms properly, Harry? Don't you want to confess your feelings to him, instead of hoarding it away? There's nothing to be ashamed of! I just think that you deserve a bit of happiness after all that you've done during the War, and if Draco makes you happy, then I'm perfectly fine with it, but I'm not speaking for Ron, _obviously_. If you want to make Draco Malfoy yours, you've got to let him know!" Hermione coaxed, and Harry was almost tempted to agree with her, but as beads of anxiety and skepticism wound their way up his chest, Harry licked his lips and hesitated.

"I can't just go right up to him and tell him that I'm crazy for him, can I? It doesn't work that way! He'll think I've gone completely bonkers! I don't know… I don't know how to go about doing it!"

Hermione only smiled confidentially and dropped her voice down to a secretive whisper, her rather naughty grin crinkling her eyes up at the ends.

"Luna Lovegood."

Harry blinked.

"Mandy Brocklehurst and Matthew Kettletoft. Everyone knows that the two of them were always at loggerheads, always sniping at each other at every opportunity they've got, and Luna managed to get them together! I don't know how she did it, but two weeks after Matthew asked Luna for help, they were kissing and holding hands all the way to Hogsmeade!"

"But they only lasted for two days!" Ron pointed out, much to Hermione's chagrin. "And Matthew was going barking mad during those two weeks, I heard that Luna was asking him to do things that completely made no sense at all-"

"Yes, I do agree that Luna's a bit unorthodox-"

"A few bezoars short of a potion, more like it," Ron interjected, sticking a finger out and making a few whirly motions around his temple. Hermione rolled her eyes and waved a hand airily in Ron's direction as though to show that his argument was debatable.

"But the fact that they were together meant something!" Hermione cried out and quickly shushed a crooning Ron. The witch immediately rattled off pairs of names, and Harry tilted his head curiously and listened. He could identify some that were still together, and some couples that had already broken up.

But the facts were undeniable; Luna's dubious gift of matchmaking was definitely not a one-off, and that Hermione was correct; all of these couples needed much more than a little nudging in the right direction to be paired up.

"So… you're saying that if I want to get a fighting chance with Draco, my best bet would be to ask Luna for help?" Harry summarized, swallowing nervously when Hermione nodded gravely. This idea shouldn't even be entertained, let alone voiced out in the open like that, but Hermione's words were whistling sadly around Harry's heart. He did want to tell Draco how he felt about him, the never-ending pull that he felt towards the blond and how much he would like to cuddle him to sleep and keep him safe, but to actually _do_ something about it, moreover on Luna's instructions, it was incredulous, absurd, completely _insane_-

But it _might_ just work.

"Come on, Hermione! Harry's not gonna let Luna fiddle around in his life like that- bloody _hell_, Harry, you're actually thinking about it!" Ron said, astonishment registering in his blinking blue eyes when he saw how serious Harry was.

"I… really want him, Ron," Harry stammered shyly, going pink all over again when his emeralds immediately latched onto the sashaying figure of Draco exiting the Great Hall for his first class.

"I don't want to leave Hogwarts knowing that I've done nothing to get him after all of my mooning over him. I don't… want to regret anything that I've done or never done. If I get rejected outright by him even after Luna's help, at least I won't look back and wonder whether we could have been together if only I had just grabbed life by the balls and done something. You get what I mean?" Harry asked quietly, his gaze falling forlornly down to his empty hands. His fingers twitched slightly, as though they were waiting, _waiting_ to hold the hands of a particular Slytherin boy-

"Well, if that's the case… Go on, Harry. Go and chase him, although it's going to need a lot more than that to bring me around to the idea of you snogging Malfoy," Ron relented, but sniffed at the thought. "You serious about it, then? It's gonna be real interesting, mate, to see how you're going to go about doing it. Good luck," Ron chortled, leaning across the table and clapping Harry heartily on the back, an impish grin poised on his lips.

A visible jostle rippled through Harry, and the brunette drew himself up, his shoulders squaring with ambition and his lips tightening with sheer determination.

"Okay, I'm going to call Luna over and talk to her. I doubt she knows about my… feelings for Draco, so I'm going to ease it slowly into the conversation. I'll start off with the usual polite pleasantries, perhaps some talk about the weather, and then subtly bring up those couples that she matched up, before mentioning the whole obsessing about, erm, _liking_ Draco thing. We'll do it real slowly, alright?" Harry said, taking charge of the situation, his neck craned as he scoured the Ravenclaw tables for the blonde.

Ron and Hermione nodded obediently.

As if the formidable fates were conveying their blessings onto Harry, it was at that exact moment that Luna got up, gathered up her books, including three copies of _The Quibbler_, in her arms and happily skipped her way down from the stretch of tables towards the exit of the Great Hall. Harry waved enthusiastically at the Ravenclaw and beckoned her over. He was already skimming through an impromptu conversation with Luna in his mind.

"Hello, Harry! Have you come to ask for my help to woo Draco?" Luna queried without preamble as she rocked herself up and down the balls of her feet, her lips quirked up in her usual dreamy smile.

A stunned silence descended upon the trio.

Harry went a bit purple in the face.

"Oh, I've been seeing a higher population of Humping Wrackspurts wafting around your head, Harry. It's what happens when someone's in love. And well, the logical deduction is that you're currently hopelessly, unfailingly and desperately in love with Draco Malfoy, for exactly the past fifty four days and six point five hours," Luna finished grandiosely, having whipped out a pair of Spectrespecs, deposited it snugly on her nose and gestured vaguely to the blank space around Harry's head.

Harry didn't want to ask how Luna got to her 'logical deduction'.

"Hmmm, the Humping Wrackspurts around both of_ your_ heads are especially active today," Luna reported helpfully, slipping the Spectrespecs off and looking meaningfully at Ron and Hermione. In response, the tips of Ron's ears went red and Hermione blushed bashfully, both not daring to look the other in the eye.

"Want to take a look, Harry? But you've got to differentiate between the normal Wrackspurts and the Humping ones," Luna offered kindly, extending the Spectrespecs to him.

"Er, no thanks," Harry refused politely. "Does the Spectrespecs tell you about Draco's… sexual preferences, I mean, that's important, isn't it…" Harry trailed off uncertainly, feeling the color mounting in his cheeks yet again.

"Oh, Draco definitely likes boys. The color of the Humping Wrackspurts around his head tells me that, so you have nothing to worry about at all!" Luna reassured the brunette with a comforting beam.

"Hang on, Wrackspurts can _hump_?" Ron asked, his nose wrinkling in bewilderment.

"Wrackspurts can do _anything_ you want if you ask them nicely," Luna whispered conspiratorially, and a cryptic twinkle flittered playfully in Luna's eyes that made the trio rather fidgety. "They're also very reliable when it comes to predicting love matters, so I'll be using them for a teeny bit of reference about Draco's possible feelings for you," Luna added.

Harry didn't know what was worse, that there were miniscule invisible creatures around his head engaging in humping activities, or that said miniscule invisible creatures were going to indirectly assist him in his love life.

"Does it matter to you that… well… Draco and I are both boys, so is it okay with you?" Harry stammered out.

"It's alright. I don't see the fuss about homosexuality; they're practically the same thing as compared to heterosexuality, really," Luna trilled melodiously.

Ron choked a bit on his sausage.

"I'll have something prepared for you tomorrow morning!" Luna promised, casting a sunny grin on the trio and turning around. With that, Luna Lovegood merrily skipped her way out of the Great Hall, her radish earrings dangling gaily from her earlobes, all the while whistling a jaunty, high-pitched tune.

Harry buried his head in his hands.

This could be the best or the worst mistake of his life.

* * *

"I'll get his attention, alright! He'll probably bash me up into a bloody pulp after I'm done with this!" Harry wailed with mortification, increasing his grip on the list and waving it agitatedly in Luna's face. "If you're not clear, I want Draco to like me, not dislike me even more!"

"Of course I do know that, Harry! Do you think I'm mad?" Luna asked calmly.

Harry tactfully chose not to reply.

"Shut it, Ron," Harry sighed, huffing at his best friend. Ron was roaring with laughter as he peeked over Harry's shoulder, delight shrieking from his eyes.

"No one, not a single soul in this world could come up with something like this, bloody _hell_, Harry, even Matthew didn't have to do all of this! Luna, you're bloody _brilliant_, let me tell you that!" Ron proclaimed, his guffawing spiraling upwards when he caught sight of the thoroughly affronted expression on Harry's face.

"Thank you, Ron!" Luna chirped graciously, pleased at the unexpected praise.

"Luna, I'm sorry, but this is ludicrous! Look, thanks for the help, I really appreciate the time that you took to do this up, but there's no way I can do all of this!" Harry protested doubtfully, his harried eyes scanning the list once more.

"Harry, that's not very nice of you to refuse Luna's help, come _on_, Ron, at least let me have a look-" Hermione stormed, leaning precariously over the breakfast table and trying to snatch it away from the redhead, but failed as Ron dodged her swipe neatly.

"Oh, I had the vague impression that you actually wanted a proper relationship with Draco. If you only want to bed him, then I could make a few changes for you. Hmmm, I think random, uncalled-for gropings in the school corridors would be an excellent touch, wouldn't it? Would you prefer his crotch or his bum, Harry?" Luna asked seriously. With that, she whipped out a quill from behind her ear, whisked the list away from Ron's paws and positioned the nib of her quill strategically above the parchment as she awaited Harry's reply somberly.

Ron dissolved into fresh peals of raucous laughter.

"Oh no, it's fine," Harry said hastily, grabbing the list back from Luna. "I just thought it would be the norm, you know, flowers, chocolates, love letters, moonlit walks on the school grounds, things like that! I didn't expect it to be so… far-fetched!" Harry elaborated, his eyebrows knotting together in dejection.

"If it was that simple, you wouldn't need my help, would you?" Luna pointed out serenely.

...

"She does speak sense for once, Harry," Ron whispered in awe, his eyes wide with amazement.

"I know!" Harry bawled. This only meant that his work was going to be cut out for him, and Harry thrust a hand in his unruly thatch of hair, tugging forlornly at it.

"Listen, the first item's pretty tame, so why not you just start with it and see how things go? Besides, Luna's got a pretty good record, so there's really no harm in trying," Ron advised, but ended up bursting into amused chuckles again, "You've only got your pride to lose!"

"Okay, when should I start?" Harry asked, resigned. He had spent the whole of last night thinking (wanking) and dreaming about Draco as though he was already his boyfriend, and the brunette realized that no matter how ridiculous or farcical everything was, Harry had to at least give it a shot.

"You'll start in oh… about fifteen minutes. Your first class for this morning is Double Potions with the Slytherins and Snape, so it's just perfect. May the Blibbering Humdingers be with you!" Luna grinned and cantered off, leaving only a faint scent of fresh flowers in her wake.

"Hang on, how did you know my schedule for the day, and in_ fifteen_ minutes, I'm not ready! Luna, _Luna_!" Harry called, horrified as he stared despairingly at the first item on the list. Yes, it wasn't as appalling as the rest of the things he was slated to do, Harry realized with a gulp, but-

"No time better than the present, don't you think?" Ron quipped exuberantly and slapped his friend so hard on the back that the top half of Harry's body jerked violently forward.

"We're going to be late! Hurry up and finish your breakfast, Ron!" Hermione urged. The Slytherin tables were already cleared, and it wasn't long before the trio of Gryffindors hurried out of the Great Hall and wounded their way down to the dungeons, with Harry clutching tightly on the list the whole time.

**1) Start a proper conversation with Draco Malfoy. **

It was just talking, right? Nothing to it! Hell, Harry talked to all sorts of people everyday, so why should this be different? Harry would do his best to come up with some sort of witty repartee and clever bon mot that would knock Draco's socks off! This was going to be easy, he was Harry _sodding _Potter, heroic vanquisher of the Dark Lord and in charge of general arse-kickery, for Merlin's sake!

Except that he had to strike up conversation with a boy that he had not spoken to properly since the War, and well, the rather… insalubrious history that Draco and Harry had shared did present a rather tricky problem.

And Harry would be bloody lucky if he got his sex drive in control for once and stopped fantasizing about bending Draco over there and then in Potions class and shagging him silly.

When they entered the dungeons, Harry's eyes immediately hooked onto a lone figure sitting alone at the middle benches of the class. The rest of the Slytherins were positioned a short distance away from Draco, and Harry's heart leapt up and began to do a giddy tap dance. This was a great sign; usually Draco was flanked by Goyle, and sometimes Blaise and Theodore.

And now, Draco Malfoy was all for his taking!

At this point, Harry let out an inner, ferocious cackle.

"Go on," Ron nudged, indicating the empty seat beside Draco and giving Harry a confident thumbs-up. Ron and Hermione were sitting together at the table just in front of Draco. Harry ran his tongue inside his mouth apprehensively and minced forward to the Slytherin. His insides were writhing and tangling up in knots of foreboding. He knew he didn't have much time to waste. Today's theory lesson was going to be rather short, and when the practical aspect of the class took over, Draco was definitely going to re-join his housemates.

Draco, on the other hand, was paying no attention to Harry, who had taken to hovering uselessly at the edge of Draco's table and was wringing his hands rather impotently. The blond was executing the finishing touches on his essay, and Harry admired how his pale, bony wrists tapered down to elegant, alabaster fingers that were wrapped demurely around his quill, just like how Harry thought about wrapped around _his_-

Harry growled angrily at himself and smacked his forehead sternly with the heel of his hand. There was absolutely no room for inappropriately sexy thoughts right now!

_Well, here goes_, Harry encouraged himself bravely and wiped his sweaty palms on his robes, his chin tightening with resolve. Unfortunately, at the very second that Harry chose to take a bold step forward, Ron stuck a foot out, his intentions meant to ease Harry towards Draco. A tussle of limbs ensued, and twinned with the elongated, careless strap from Harry's book bag thrown into the mix, Harry squawked and lurched forward, banging his hip painfully at the frame of the table. The table jarred to the side and Draco started, resulting in a mussed-up writing of _belladonna_. The frown lines between Draco's eyebrows pinched together in frustration and he barely shot Harry a glimpse before sighing and painstakingly correcting his essay.

Harry threw a daggered look of murder in Ron's direction, to which Ron winced apologetically and mouthed '_sorry_!'

With his anxious bespectacled green eyes peering out from beneath his tousle of black fringe, Harry advanced towards Draco and slotted himself smoothly beside him. _This is how things should be_, Harry thought, relaxing fractionally. A rather surprised Draco stowed his essay away and channeled a wary look at the Gryffindor.

Harry could feel the gathering remnants of arrogance that had been cultivated since birth emanating from the other boy. Even after the ruins of the War, the Malfoys had stoically maintained their stiff upper lip and carried on with life as though everything had simply been a mere scratch on the surface. Much of this was achieved only by Harry defending all three Malfoys during court, if not the whole family would have been mercilessly thrown in Azkaban without a backwards glance.

The Malfoys had maintained their formal dignity and distance, complete with their cut-glass voices during court, but no one could mistake the way Narcissa's face sagged with relief, the brief sear of incredulity that had glimmered across Lucius' and Draco's eyes like fluid quicksilver when the court had only sentenced the Malfoys to a much lighter sentence compared to Azkaban. On their way out, Narcissa had sought Harry's eyes out and rewarded him with an arresting and prolonged gaze of gratitude. Lucius had simply given Harry a brash nod, but Harry saw his grip on his wife and son tighten imperceptibly.

Draco, on the other hand, had marshaled his features into a proper smile that was as rare as the Golden Snidget, the corners of his mouth gracefully turning up and his lips having the gentle curve of a crescent moon…

Maybe that was when Harry had started thinking about Draco a lot more than he should be.

And now, here he was, sitting beside Draco Malfoy, with his heartbeat and blood pressure rocketing up like a madman. Draco's lips were a wicked combination of downright kissable strawberry-raspberry pink, and Merlin, Harry could smell the other boy, that fresh, silvery scent of vanilla cream wafting around that sweet spot at the side of Draco's neck, it was _simply divine_-

Harry angled his head towards the Slytherin and sniffed him shamelessly.

A rather horrified Draco inched away.

"M-Morning, Draco," Harry murmured shyly, the close proximity to Draco having remarkable effects on his body; a virulent blush was spreading up from his neck up to the crests of his cheekbones, his clawed fingers were gripping hard on his bag, there was electricity pumping all over his every nerve and vein, but yet, there was this comforting, cotton-wooly feeling of affection, like the slathered, sweet honey of _luurve _all over his skin, coursing through his blood, filling up his system and heating up all his warm and cold places and everywhere in between-

"Good morning," Draco replied stiffly, but just when Harry was about to exhale softly in consolation, Draco picked up the flailing thread of conversation, his voice kept as deceptively light as silk, complete with Draco's patented expression of a bland smile, "How… strange, Potter. I don't recall giving you any permission to use my first name."

And with that loaded sentence, Harry was descending freefall into the gaping abyss of eternal doom, with absolutely no one to save him.

In front of the struggling pair, Ron and Hermione cringed in sympathy.

Summoning up whatever vestiges of pride that wasn't torn ruthlessly to shreds, Harry plodded on.

A grin would be good, wouldn't it? Hermione always said that he had a real nice smile that could brighten up anyone's day! That was what had been going on! He should have started with one of his most brilliant beams that Draco could bask in! With that futile, yet optimistic thought lodged firmly in his brain, Harry mustered up a watery smile, resplendent with his lips plastered inanely across his teeth and his eyes scrunched up in a terrific imitation of a raccoon.

Draco thought that Potter looked fairly constipated.

The blond squinted curiously at Harry and asked, "Is your face suffering from some sort of tic?"

The floundering smile slid off Harry's face completely.

"You're not acting right today, Potter," Draco concluded and tossed a look of genuine puzzlement towards the other boy, his words spilling forth in one of his trademark unhurried drawls. "I think you're sitting at the wrong table."

And with his jaw hanging limp and rendered speechless, an incapacitated Harry could only watch in escalating horror as Draco, the darling object of his puppy love, packed up his books, parchment and Potions kit and relocated himself smartly to the Slytherin tables.

Harry turned back to the front, only to see Ron and Hermione shaking their heads gravely at him.

RESULT:

**FAIL.**

An utterly depressed Harry sloped off and plonked himself unceremoniously between Ron and Hermione, his tongue-tied heart sinking all the way down to his shoes with every second that he replayed the scene over and over.

"Killing Dark Lords, sure, no problem! Save the whole wizarding world, I'm there! But no, when it comes to romance, I'm just… _horrible_. Does he have to be so intimidating? I can't even handle talking to him, how am I going to do the rest of this?" Harry sighed sadly and pulled the list out again from his pocket, surveying it with disheartened eyes.

"The beginning is always the toughest part," Hermione remarked sagely, and tugged the list away from the brunette. She had no chance to read it during breakfast, thanks to Ron hogging it the whole time. She smoothed her hair back behind her ear and scanned it, but within seconds, her rising eyebrows and gaping mouth told Harry everything that he needed to know.

A bubble of giggles spluttered from Hermione's mouth, and Hermione tried to swallow it back inexpertly.

"Oh come on, Hermione, not you too!" Harry exclaimed, dismayed.

What was this, his love life sorted out, cut and dried and all strung out on a bloody washing line that triggered everyone's funny bone?

"Look at number seven, you're going to have to… to s-s-suh, oh, _Harry_!" Hermione blubbered between fits of snickers, unable to complete her sentence due to another undignified snort erupting from her lips.

"No, Hermione, number five! Five has _got_ to be the best one out of the lot, what does number four even _mean_? It's going to be a bloody _circus_ round here, and I'll be surprised if he doesn't skin you alive at the end of everything!" Ron joined in with Hermione's convivial laughter, having grabbed the list from Hermione and poking it with a finger.

"You two are _not _helping at all!" Harry hissed in a frenzy, elbowing his friends urgently as Snape's head snapped up from his perch, his glittery eyes already pinioning Harry's.

But the other two Gryffindors didn't seem to have heard Harry, they were too busy guffawing right in the middle of Potions class. Hermione's shoulders were quavering with muffled hysteria, while Ron was completely gone, his head face-down on the desk and his out-of-control laughter booming around the cold, echoing walls of the dungeon.

And there was a very annoyed Harry sandwiched between his howling friends.

Class was well and truly disrupted.

Harry cursed under his breath and agilely wrenched the list from Ron's grasp, shoving it in his pocket when he saw Snape swooping down on them.

"What is the reason, pray tell, for this unruly outburst?" Snape barked, and Hermione immediately straightened up, while Harry stepped hard on Ron's foot under the table. The witch apologized and skimmed the tears of mirth off her eyes, her chortles petering off gradually.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor," Snape commanded and skewered the three of them with his gaze before surging back to the board.

"Mate, to sum it all up for you, you're royally _screwed_," Ron surmised, having recovered his equilibrium after a string of his last few chuckles.

Harry sighed deeply, withdrew the list and regarded it with a critical eye, and then it slowly dawned on him that Ron's deduction wasn't that far off after all.

* * *

**/tbc**

Luna giving any sort of advice is already rather laughable, much less love advice. It had purely been a flyaway idea, but I thought that it actually had potential. I was practically jumping at the chance to write Luna, and I admit that I actually burst out laughing in the train when I cooked up the various sorts of mischief that Luna could make Harry do (unwillingly).

_Hardly Rational_ will consist of **seven** chapters, updates will be on every **Friday**, but there will be a short period of time when there will be no updates since I'll be overseas.

God, Harry is going to be a poor, poor sod after I'm done with him. /very, very evil grin


	2. Not Quite That Ferocious

**Hardly Rational by xErised**

**Not Quite That Ferocious **

* * *

"It's perfectly fine, Harry. As my father used to say, we can't always predict when the Gulping Plimpys will perform their last gulp. Maybe the Humping Wrackspurts around Draco's head were a bit too rowdy yesterday. It _is_ their mating season, after all," Luna comforted reassuringly as she picked up her quill and marked a big, black cross just beside the first trial on the list.

Harry gave the cross a withering glare.

The cross stared back challengingly.

It was the day after Harry's Fail (as what Ron liked to jokingly call it), and the four of them were sequestered away in the inner cloisters of the school library. There was the hushed ebb and rise of conversation and discussion around them, the monotonous scratching of quills against parchment and textbooks, punctuated by the occasional sharp bark of Madam Pince when some knots of students got too noisy.

Outside, the rain plopped down hard from the roiling dark-grey clouds, combined with sizzling forks of lightning and ear-splitting thunder that made Hermione jump every few minutes or so. Harry gazed absently out the window, his chin resting on his palm and his eyes batting lazily behind his glasses. Fluid branches of rain lashed viciously onto the panes, streaking and blending the colors of the landscape beyond.

Harry sighed dreamily and wondered what Draco was doing right now.

Beside him, Hermione sneezed and rubbed her nose ungraciously, her eyes never once wavering from the sea of black and white from the blanched pages of her book. Ron puffed himself up importantly, took off his jacket and draped it gently across Hermione's shoulders. In response, Hermione smiled gratefully back at the redhead.

Luna, who was seated opposite the pair, simply whipped out her Spectrespecs from her robes, slipped it on and regarded Ron and Hermione through the frames of her quirky glasses.

And then, a very slow, almost crafty grin spread across the bottom half of the Ravenclaw's face; a grin that the three Gryffindors failed to catch.

"So what's next?" Harry asked, turning back to Luna. He reared back and gasped in mild horror when he came face to face with what looked like a demented owl. Harry blinked rapidly and stared further at the psychedelic pink and blue swirls that covered Luna's eyes, the little, mind-numbing sparkly bits at the sides that were glimmering like rhinestones, those hypnotic whorls and curls that trailed from the centre of the lenses, swilling like a… whirlpool, hmmm, strange how Harry was getting sleepy, there were tiny dots invading his vision, hmmm, _hmmm_, and Merlin, Luna sure was _pretty_, especially with that cheery sunflower in her hair, such a far cry to the weather raging outside, ooh, sexy sunflowers and pretty Luna, woo_hoo_!

Harry giggled.

"Yes, I do get that reaction often. I don't know why, though, I think Spectrespecs looks fairly similar to your glasses, Harry," Luna commented and pulled the glasses off, firmly breaking the spell that had held the brunette in thrall. A startled Harry shook his head and thumped the side of his face robustly, wondering what the hell had just happened.

"It's what it says on the list," Luna said plainly, jolting Harry's thoughts back to his initial query.

Harry flipped open his Potions book and plucked the list from between the pages. He knew what it meant, and he certainly had his own reservations about it, but Harry just didn't understand-

**2) Request Animagus lessons from McGonagall.**

"Animagus! That's brilliant, Harry!" Ron cheered, immediately perking up. "You could get a really cool form, like a… a leopard, or a stag, like your dad! Or maybe a lion, just like Gryffindor!" As if to emphasize his point, Ron inhaled deeply and let rip a mighty, reverberating roar, making a group of first-years jump out of their skins beside them and triggering a lengthy lecture from a scandalized Madam Pince about the sanctity of the peace that must be upheld in the library _at all times_!

"Crusty old bat," Ron muttered darkly under his breath when Madam Pince had stormed away, and Hermione adopted a stern expression, but no one could miss the affectionate grin tugging on the witch's lips.

"I don't mind training to become an Animagus right now, but is it really necessary? Isn't it a bit… permanent for this?" Harry wondered out loud, but before Luna could answer, he spoke again, turning the list around to Luna's direction, a finger underlining The Dreaded Number Seven (Yes, it was capitalized because it damn well deserved to be!).

"Is this… erm, necessary too? Although that seems rather risky, doesn't it?" Harry dredged up an uncomfortable laugh. Merlin, just thinking about it got Harry all hot and bothered, and not in a good way. "And since we're on this topic, number five also raises some… ah… concerns," the Gryffindor finished flimsily, hoping that Luna wouldn't feel insulted.

It seemed as though a bit of Luna's dreaminess had suddenly evaporated like how a rainbow would just before a looming thunderstorm.

"You can't pick and choose what you want to do. Every step is equally important. I thought we had already moved on from the doubting phase, Harry. If you prefer not to do anything and to continue to sneakily write your love letters-" Luna answered evenly, but was cut off by a spluttering and vehemently gesticulating Harry, who let out a chord of laughter that was a bit too bright to be genuine.

"Love letters? I don't write love letters, it's what _girls_ do, ha_ha_, I'm not a girl-"

Luna's smile hardened and Hermione peered owlishly at Harry.

"… yeah okay just a handful of 'em," Harry bleated weakly, his flailing bravado crumbling like crushed sand.

Luna's dreaminess instantly re-appeared, her smile softening at the edges.

"Of course you'll be nothing like a bloodthirsty, barbaric_ leopard_," Luna explained, her nose wrinkling up in distaste at the very notion. "Draco does have a delicate system, and it won't do at all for you to scare the living daylights out of him. You want to make him fall in love with you, so I was thinking more along the lines of something… cute and cuddly," Luna hinted, smiling innocently at a flabbergasted Harry, who was currently plagued with trepidation.

Harry was gradually realizing that he was developing a phobia over that particular (diabolical) smile of Luna, which meant that he was in for a truck-load of:

a) Vanish-in-a-hole-in-the-ground and/or head-banging-on-wall embarrassment.

b) Teeth-gritting, fist-curling, palm-on-forehead _ohmygod, please tell me that I did not just say that_ awkwardness.

c) Pure, feeble, blank, horror.

d) All of the above.

With that placid smile still in place, Luna leant over and whispered something quietly in the brunette's ear, her grey eyes twinkling with both merriment and mirth.

Harry paled at once.

* * *

"It comes as no surprise that you show interest in learning the ways of the Animagus, but I must warn you beforehand, Potter, that the process and training is extremely grueling as it encompasses both theory and practical, so sufficient time and energy must be set aside for this commitment. Can you fulfill that?" McGonagall enquired severely. She paused in her grading of her essays and looked solemnly at Harry through the tops of her glasses.

"Yes, Professor," Harry nodded seriously.

Pleased by Harry's staunch reply, McGonagall gave the essay that she was currently marking one last tick and placed it to one side. "I assume that you wish to follow in the footsteps of your father and your Patronus in the shape of a stag?"

"Well, uh, about that…" Harry petered off helplessly, shooting the Transfigurations Professor a frail, watered-down grin.

Harry and Ron had been up in arms when Luna had revealed what shape she would like Harry to take for his Animagus form.

_"Harry's a tough, strapping bloke, Luna, he's got his macho pride to maintain!"_

_"It's essential that he takes this form-"_

_"Yes, I don't mind being an Animagus, and yes, I do see where you're going with this, but even I have my limits-"_

_"Harry, do listen to Luna! I'm sure she's got her reasons for everything, and besides, you'll be absolutely adorable-"_

Hermione was already a sight to behold when she was displeased, and when coupled with an undeterred Luna-

Females were a bunch of loonies, the whole _sodding_ lot of them.

Their argument had reached such heated levels that a fuming Madam Pince had unceremoniously booted them out of the library shrieking _'and don't come back until you've settled your differences!'_

And that was when Luna threw out her trump card.

_"When all goes according to plan and right after you succeed in your Animagus form, you'll be able to access the Slytherin dorms, especially Draco's bed. You will spend countless nights with him, and he will chat you up about the day's events, show you undying affection, fawn over, cuddle, hug you, and if you're lucky, you'll get to see him naked."_

A naked Draco Malfoy.

Well, since she put it oh-so-very-nicely in those terms…

_"Are you very, very sure, Luna?"_

_"Yes."_

So here he was, in McGonagall's office, requesting to adopt an Animagus form that was so far off his radar that only_ Luna_ would be able to think of it-

"I wonder if I could… have my Animagus as a…" Harry started and shuffled lamely on the spot, his hands clasped unconvincingly behind his back and his voice spiraling downwards in a jerky slope until McGonagall couldn't hear the tail-end of his sentence at all.

"Speak up, Potter, I can't hear you."

"I would like to be a… a… _bunny_," Harry managed to croak out.

At this point, McGonagall made a faint choking sound.

There.

He'd said it.

Harry Potter had already gone down in the annals of fame and glory as the Boy-Who-Lived, stalwart and honorable champion of the Wizarding World who had fearlessly and gallantly laid down his life to defeat Voldemort, and there was no doubt that he was going to be featured in numerous historical textbooks and journals, but oh no, there was going to be a teeny little, almost inconsequential (but not really) footnote, right at the bottom of the page-

_"By the way, Harry Potter's Animagus form is a bunny."_

And then the students would mock him with contempt, "Wonder how he killed the Dark Lord. Maybe by a well-timed bunny punch? HARHARHAR!"

He was no longer going to be known as the Boy-Who-Lived, but instead, the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-A-Bunny.

Harry was going to be one of those animals that girls would coo over and boys would love to squish, he was going to have a soft, fluffy, little cottontail and those cute, tiny, paws that could barely lift up a_ sodding_ wand, he was going to have big, adorable, dopey eyes that would melt the hearts of girls like chocolate in a flaming cauldron, he was going to have one of those twitchy noses complete with quivering whiskers and go around sniffing everyone's bums, and, oh _God_-

Harry wanted to curl himself up in a corner and _die_.

But the image of a naked, loving _whispers of forever_- and attentive Draco Malfoy swam, shimmered and shone, like a glorious light at the end of a long, dark tunnel.

"This… is highly irregular, Potter. Out of curiosity, may I ask why?" McGonagall asked dryly, after having gotten over the first wave of shock.

"For personal reasons," Harry replied, fidgeting a bit when a gimlet-eyed McGonagall fixed him with a searching stare.

"Very well. I will have the mandatory paperwork for registration with the Ministry of Magic at the Improper Use of Magic Office ready by the next class. Additionally, we will also discuss the timing and duration of your impending Animagus lessons. You can start by borrowing these few books from the library," McGonagall ordered as she wrote down the titles of a few basic Animagus training books on a scrap of parchment and handed it to Harry, who nodded silently.

"Hang on, Potter," McGonagall said as she dashed off another book title on a separate piece of parchment.

"It would be best for you to borrow this too, for whoever has caught your current fancy," McGonagall suggested, an amused glint twinkling in her bespectacled eyes.

Harry looked down at the title uncertainly:

_"How to Care For, Cherish and Love Your Small Pet"_

…

Harry wanted to run screaming in the other direction.

* * *

Days feathered into weeks, and Harry's life morphed into a hurried gust of habitual lessons, schoolwork, Quidditch practice and private Animagus classes with McGonagall.

Hermione had helped, of course, especially when Harry had encountered problems with large, technical chunks of theory Animagus by reading it herself, digesting it and explaining it in simpler terms to Harry. It took Harry three full weeks until McGonagall was satisfied with his grasp on his theory work, and Harry found himself waiting eagerly for his first practical Animagus class, which was going to commence next week.

Harry just hoped that he wouldn't find himself having a bunny tail attached to his bum in his human form, because that would just_ totally_ suck.

Ron also regularly assisted Harry in the formulating of their Quidditch team strategies and the shaping up of the Gryffindor team during practices, thus providing a much-needed helping hand that Harry was grateful for.

Luna had also considerately planned the list in such a way that Harry wouldn't have too much on his plate at one time. Just last week, the Ravenclaw had already introduced the third item on the list to Harry.

**3) Chart your progress on the back of this list. **

_"A few sentences about what you've been doing would be fine, Harry."_

It wasn't difficult at all, so once every few nights, Harry would diligently jot down a brief summary of what he had accomplished, leaving enough space below for the rest of the untouched items on the list.

It was only now that Harry could take a proper breather because his essays were mostly done, the spate of tests that the professors had heaped on them were finally over and the Gryffindor Quidditch team was taking a short, well-deserved break between matches, which freed up much quality time for Harry's favorite pastime: Malfoy-Watching.

Harry quelled the infatuated burble of a sigh that rose clumsily to his lips and surreptitiously rustled last month's copy of _The Daily Prophet _that was held directly in front of him.

The newspaper had two holes cut out neatly for Harry's eyes, and another four separate holes (which were currently being unused) for Harry to catch the different angles of Draco's face and body.

No, it wasn't the first time he was doing this.

The brunette eyed the other boy happily across the Great Hall, savoring the peace that he had since both Ron and Hermione had not arrived for breakfast yet. Yearning hunger trembled and scythed across Harry's skin and unadulterated desire jetted through his blood as he brazenly eyed his walking wet dream through the (inadequate) camouflage of his paper.

Harry loved looking at Draco, especially during the mornings. The grouchy _how adorable, he's not a morning person at all- _blond would stumble down to breakfast equipped with a pair of smoldering, softly-lidded bedroom eyes that brought to mind undulating green bedcovers, the demure glow and quaver of candlelight placed strategically around the room, and there a half-naked Draco was, rubbing his legs coyly together, biting his plump lower lip, one hand clutching his hip, revealing acres and acres and _acres_ of pale, creamy skin that deserved to be licked, sucked and fondled until the end of _bloody_ time, and Draco would be beckoning Harry over with a promising, come-hither look that made Harry want to whoop with delight and tear his clothes off with ardor-

Harry's grip on the sides of the newspaper faltered a bit while he stuck a finger in his collar and worked it slightly loose, wondering why it had suddenly gotten so_ hot_.

"Morning, Harry," Ron greeted and slid his gangly legs beside Harry, while Hermione followed suit, but on the brunette's left side.

"I haven't seen _that _in a long time," Hermione said, raising an eyebrow at Harry's deviously-devised newspaper as she buttered her toast. "I still have no idea why you've got six holes for that. It's not like you can use all of them simultaneously, you know."

"Ah, this is the beauty of it. If you look through the set of holes at the extreme right side," Harry grinned and zipped his head to the right, "you can get a better view of his left profile. Do you know he's got a piercing on his left ear? However, if you use the holes at the left side and tilt your head just a bit like that…" Harry crooked his head slightly, his voice buoying up with excitement, "you get to see how the sunlight shimmers on his blond hair, and sometimes his robe's a bit awry on this side, so I caught a nice long glimpse of his collarbone once. But my favorite position is the middle one, because well… you get to see his face, which is… in my opinion, simply _brilliant_," Harry sighed joyfully with a gooey smile on his face.

"Mate, you need help," Ron exclaimed, staring at his best friend as though he had grown another head or two.

"Oh, you wouldn't understand, Ronald. I think it's really sweet, yes, I know, Ron, he's Malfoy, don't give me that face, but oh, Harry, I never knew you were so sensitive deep down inside!" Hermione swooned and promptly flung her arms warmly around Harry's neck.

"Hey, don't make me sound like some sort of _troll_," Ron mumbled darkly to himself, then blinked as Hermione scooted closer to Harry and placed her eyes behind the two holes on Harry's left. Shrugging to no one in particular, Ron hustled towards Harry and stuck his head curiously beside him, surveying Draco through the set of holes on the right.

Three pairs of unwavering, intense eyes were now fixed resolutely on a certain Slytherin through the cut-outs of a newspaper.

"The sunlight _does_ set off his hair rather nicely, kind of makes it look like… spun _gold_, actually."

"Yes, that's _exactly_ what I thought of, Hermione!"

"I can't see his piercing. And I don't see what's up with his left profile. He still looks the same, that pointy-faced ferret. Hermione, stop pulling the paper towards you-"

"I'll stop pulling it when you stop wiggling the bench to the front, Ron, one of us is going to fall over-"

"Get down!" A floundering Harry suddenly grunted, much to Ron and Hermione's consternation. They followed Harry's instructions and immediately flopped their heads beneath the table without further ado.

Silence reigned for a few seconds.

"Harry? I assume that Draco saw us looking at him?"

Harry coughed in embarrassment and felt blood blazing through his burnished cheeks at Hermione's correct deduction. With a precise flick of his head, Draco had locked eyes with an astonished Harry, his grey eyes containing a thoroughly entertained glint.

"If that's the case, then shouldn't we have pretended that we were actually reading the paper, instead of ducking our heads down like this and making it painfully obvious that we were indeed looking at him?"

…

Harry let out a long, drawn-out sigh that was brimming with feeling.

"Okay. Let's all get up and act as though nothing has happened."

The trio resurfaced, only to find Seamus and Dean staring at them in bewilderment.

"Is there something fascinating under the table? Any girls flashing their knickers, maybe?" Seamus leered lecherously and poked his head under the table, earning an efficient kick at the ankle from Hermione.

With bashfulness and peevishness churning in his belly, Harry calmly folded the newspaper up, picked up his spoon and dragged it around his porridge in a show of nonchalance before letting his eyes roam discreetly to the Slytherin table.

Draco had been waiting patiently for Harry to gaze at him, and when Harry took the bait, the blond shot Harry an arch look and smirked slyly at him. Both his forefingers and thumbs were curved into circles, and Draco raised his hands up cunningly to his face, his fingers encircling the perimeters of his own eyes in an imitation of Harry's newspaper cut-outs.

…

**SUBTLE FAIL. **

And it was at that very second that Harry saw his forthcoming future drifting before his eyes; he was going to grow old and lonely, probably a bit like Hagrid. Come to think about it, he might even take over Hagrid's job as gamekeeper of Hogwarts and have a little hut just at the border of the Forbidden Forest and have no one for company but pumpkins, boarhounds and Blast-Ended Skrewts, who would probably eat him up when he was in his bunny form anyway, thus putting an end to his Draco-less life.

Depressing wouldn't even begin to describe it.

"Hello, Harry! I did enjoy your newspaper trick, although it sort of defeated the purpose when Draco found out about it. And six holes does seem a bit too much, honestly," Luna said frankly, appearing out of nowhere and standing in front of Harry.

"Thanks for the critique," Harry replied feebly.

"Anyway, things seem to be going smoothly for now, so would you like to continue with number four?"

Banishing the dregs of humiliation that he felt, Harry sat up straight and nodded expectantly. Number four was only a single word, and once again, the brunette had not been completely sure what it entailed exactly. Emboldened by Harry's confidence, Luna smiled (yes, _that _smile again, Harry thought with a shudder) whimsically at Harry and spoke, her lilting voice mellifluous and soothing.

"It's nothing out of the ordinary at all, Harry. You're only going out on a date with Draco."

* * *

**/tbc**

Okay, I better clear some stuff up about the Animagus issue before I get bum-kicked about not doing adequate research:

James Potter, Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black started training for their Animagus forms since they were twelve and finally completed it when they were fifteen. All of their three forms were unregistered, thus leading to my assumption that they didn't receive any official training from McGonagall, because if they went through the proper channels for that, they would probably be registered. To be doing such advanced magic when they were twelve without assistance is already quite a long stretch, so if you take a fully-fledged wizard such as 18-year-old Harry Potter with proper training from McGonagall, I dare say that Harry will take a much shorter time to complete the process.

I honestly have no idea how long Harry would take in reality, but if you put it in the context of this story, it definitely has to take less than a year, because all of them are already at their last year in Hogwarts. I've already put an adequate length of time for theory Animagus so as to make it not so rushed, so hopefully that might appease some of the more nit-picky readers. This is the only bit that I'm rather worried about, and I've tried to fit it in the timeline as much as possible, and I'm afraid that this is the best that I can come up with. There's also the whole other issue of the wizard being unable to choose his form and how compatible his personality would be with the animal chosen, but bunny!Harry is (much more adorable than stag!Harry) very critical to the storyline, so it would mean greatly to me if you simply took this rationale at face value.

Yep, so I guess that's all that I've got to say about the Animagus subject, and well, I hope that this chapter got a few laughs from you! (:


	3. Bonbon

**Hardly Rational by xErised**

**An Improper Invitation**

* * *

**4) Hogsmeade.**

Harry was not a happy trooper on this particular Saturday evening.

"I've got absolutely nothing to wear!" A half-naked Harry howled as he frantically ferreted in his trunk for a suitable ensemble for tonight's so-called _date_ with darling Draco. Ron, on the other hand, was munching peacefully on an apple and sitting cross-legged on his bed. The amused redhead raised an eyebrow at the numerous pairs of jeans and pants that were strewn all over the floor. Next, his gaze trawled up to the muddle of shirts and jumpers that were slung messily on the posts of Harry's bed.

"How about this? This is fine, isn't it?" Harry babbled hopefully, rescuing a crumpled dress shirt from the cavernous depths of his trunk. An umbrella of dust motes dispersed violently in the air, inducing a loud sneeze from Harry.

Ron's expression immediately turned into one of horror.

"Where do you think you're going? The Yule Ball?" Ron shook his head vehemently, polished off his apple and smacked his lips. "Let me at it, mate," Ron offered helpfully and shoved Harry out of the way. Ron poked his head in Harry's trunk and pawed around for a bit, before huffing dubiously and slamming the trunk closed. Humming a tune softly under his breath, Ron swept a cursory glance at the clothes sprawled on Harry's bed. His calculative blue eyes hooked onto Harry's favorite shirt and most comfortable pair of pants.

"Wear this, and put on a jumper too. It's cold out there tonight," Ron suggested and bundled the set of clothes into Harry's outstretched arms.

"No! It's too casual-"

"Bloody hell, Harry! You've spent twenty minutes fussing over what to wear! You're a _bloke_! We don't go around fiddling around with our wardrobe and things like that! Now put it on, or you'll be late!" Ron ordered with exasperation.

"You're right, Ron. I'm not a bloody girl, even though I do write love letters to him from time to time, erm, I mean," Harry cleared his throat sheepishly while he shrugged on his jeans. "I don't even see the point of it, anyway, since I'll be hiding under the Invisibility Cloak, tagging along with the rest of the Slytherins with Draco. It's not even a proper date!" Harry muttered grumpily.

"It's a good thing, mate, because I reckon if Malfoy smiles at you, you'll get a heart attack and we'll have to cart you off to St. Mungo's," a grinning Ron quipped, reached over and tossed the Invisibility Cloak over to Harry's direction.

"Luna never did tell me what's the purpose of this exercise. I don't understand why I've got to follow Draco around tonight when the whole bunch of them is at Hogsmeade. And she's all… _enigmatic_ about it, it's so infuriating. It's like she knows exactly what's going to happen, but she refuses to reveal anything," Harry lamented, his voice muffled momentarily as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"She's trying to hone your stalking skills," Ron proposed, shrugging noncommittally. Ron conveniently picked up a jumper from the floor and lobbed it towards Harry, who turned and caught it neatly with both hands.

"It's not stalking! It's um… _focused following_," Harry corrected primly. "Can you see the outline of my briefs through my pants?" Harry asked suddenly and promptly jutted his bum out for Ron's perusal. In reply, the other boy squinted, leant forward and angled his head.

And that was how Luna and Hermione, after scampering up the stairs to the Gryffindor boys' dormitory, found Harry and Ron. Ron's legs were dangling from the edge of Harry's bed, the length of his upper body slanted towards Harry's posterior and his eyes scrutinizing the brunette's arse studiously. As though complimenting Ron's position, Harry's hands were resting on his thighs as he inched backwards and inclined his bum more towards Ron.

Luna and Hermione paused curiously.

"That looks vaguely sexual," Luna commented lightly, startling both boys. Ron instantaneously scrambled back to the other side of the bed and Harry catapulted upright, both quickly mumbling and tutting something along the lines of misbehaving briefs and of course there was _nothing_ remotely sexual about it, Ron was straight, for Merlin's sake, and Harry was strictly a one-blond-boy's man!

"Now, since we've got that sorted out, we've got to get moving. The Slytherins are already making their way out of Hogwarts. Come on!" Hermione beckoned, and the four of them quickly scuttled out of the dormitories, down the Tower and into the silent corridors of the school. Most of the students had already left for Hogsmeade, and Harry could detect the sharp minty scent of the cold night air. Accumulated dew and snow, sparkly and powdery light, dangled coquettishly from the leaves of the trees in the courtyard. The soft, wintry caresses of the wind weaved and wafted around the four students, teasing both Hermione and Luna's long hair and making Harry and Ron shiver a bit.

"Hang on," Ron commanded, frowning slightly when he heard voices. "Target spotted!" He hissed dramatically, jerking a thumb behind them. With that, the redhead pointed theatrically to a nearby tree and gestured meaningfully to Hermione, Luna and Harry. His arms and legs splayed out comically, Ron exaggeratedly tip-toed towards another row of trees and inched surreptitiously across the borders of their branches, before disappearing stealthily behind the trunk of one particularly humongous tree, his presence betrayed only by a gentle rustling of leaves.

Luna blinked in puzzlement.

"Too many Muggle spy movies during the holidays," Harry and Hermione both offered as a way of explanation. Luna's eyebrows climbed her forehead in a show of amusement. The voices were gradually becoming nearer, and Harry, Hermione and Luna swiftly huddled together and hid behind their tree. It didn't take long before Draco appeared, fringed by Theodore, Blaise and Goyle. The Slytherins were discussing the Slytherin-Ravenclaw Quidditch match amongst themselves, and Harry couldn't help but sigh fancifully when Draco passed his tree and he caught a precious whiff of vanilla cream.

The three Gryffindors and the lone Ravenclaw stayed motionless while the Slytherins strolled leisurely out of sight. Without further ado, Ron's hand popped up from the trunk of his tree, signaling for Harry to start the hunt. The brunette draped the Cloak over himself and shuffled forward, turning back to see Ron and Hermione granting him a cheery thumbs-up. However, Luna only folded her arms across her chest and flashed Harry a cryptic, wordless smile.

And so it began; Harry padding furtively behind the quartet of Slytherins, all the while dodging swinging doors and disorderly clumps of students. He watched as they threaded through the familiar hodgepodge of shops selling their wares. Harry hovered uselessly outside Scrivenshaft's as Theodore and Blaise admired the newly-arrived and gold-embossed set of quill and ink-well, shook and stamped the slush off the soles of his shoes outside Dervish & Banges as Goyle dropped off some magical knick-knacks for repair, sighed longingly under his breath as the four of them entered Honeydukes. Although it had only been roughly half an hour since Harry had been tailing them, his patience was already wearing dangerously thin, and coupled with no purpose in sight, Harry was becoming to feel rather disgruntled.

When Draco swung the door of the candy store open, Harry could feel a gale of warm, invigorating air emanating from the shop, and the brunette's fierce grip on his Cloak, which had been wrapped snugly around him to keep as much cold out, faltered. Biting his lip in hesitation, Harry could feel his wariness dissolving into mist. The Slytherins hadn't suspected a thing, and emboldened_ I wanna get closer to him_- by this (erroneous) thought, Harry squared his shoulders, sealed his lips in a determined line and fell neatly into step behind Draco.

As usual, the store housed a cornucopia of candy of all shapes, colors, flavors and sizes that made Goyle's beady little eyes light up in rapture. On the other hand, Draco only deigned to give the selections on display a derisive snort, choosing to gloat about the designer French pralines that his parents had mailed to him just the day before.

Meanwhile, an errant shop assistant had accidentally scraped his ankle against Harry's concealed foot, sending the brunette tripping backwards. In an effort to steady himself, Harry had missed the judicious glance that Draco launched in his general direction.

A slow, shrewd and secretive smile oozed its way across Draco's lips.

"I've got to go off for a while. I'll see you at The Three Broomsticks later, yeah?" Draco declared rather loudly. That query seemed to be like a bolt out of the blue to the other Slytherins, who arched their eyebrows at Draco and nodded mutely at him. With that, the blond swept out of the shop impressively and slinked up to the edges of the street. The hustle and bustle of the crowds and the liveliness of the shops drifted away, and it seemed as though Draco was making his way to the Shrieking Shack.

Mounting jealousy gathered and crashed like thunder in Harry as he followed under the safety of his Cloak. Was Draco meeting some sort of secret lover for a rendezvous? Harry would punch the other party, no, he would _maul_ him to bits for putting his oily, disgusting paws all over his Draco when Draco was so obviously his for the claiming! All Harry needed was the name of Draco's clandestine lover, and Harry would track him down and bash him up and leave his mangled body there, because how dare he, how _dare_ he touch Harry's beloved! With that resentful thought lodged mulishly at the forefront of his brain, Harry snarled hotly under his breath and cracked his knuckles threateningly, his eyes alight with a blaze of resentment.

Draco had led him to a clearing where Harry had clamped his hands around Draco's ankles and dragged the poor, shrieking boy around the place during their third year. But now, things had taken a completely different turn and the only sort of dragging Harry wanted to do was pounce on the blond and drag him back to his bed and have his utterly wicked way with him! Of course there'll be shrieking, lots and lots of shrieking of the pleasurable kind, and hmmm, maybe a bit of moaning and grinding, _ooh_-

_Bad, bad Harry_, Harry berated himself harshly and desperately shook his head to restore some semblance of decency.

A suspicious scowl marred Draco's features and hardened his profile as he stood with his legs apart and his hand fingering his wand cautiously in his pocket.

"Get out here, Potter!" Draco barked.

Okay, so his name was Potter, wasn't it? That was all Harry needed; he would rummage the school body for a boy named Potter, who should be around Draco's age, and Harry would chase him down, interrogate him with the sternness of an Auror and probably throw in a few punches for good measure and warn him never to go near his Draco _ever_ again. Potter was a downright silly name anyway, it was _totally _unsexy and if Draco had a thing for Potters, well, there was one perfectly fine Potter here waiting for him to love-

Hang on.

...

Oh _shit_.

"I know you're here! You've been hounding me for the whole night! I want to know why! Show yourself!" Draco bellowed, his foot tapping impatiently and his teeth grinding combatively. Harry fidgeted under his Cloak, his mind whirring to the alternatives that he was currently presented with, which were… painfully limited. He couldn't leave, because he didn't know exactly what Luna wanted, and there was no way he was going to do this all over again if she wasn't pleased with what he had to report, and besides, it was so… _unmanly_ of him to just turn tail and vanish when Draco was so adamant about Harry stalking, erm, following him with an _admirable_ focus that would have made Hermione proud!

_So I guess this is it_, Harry thought and gritted his teeth. He pulled the Cloak off majestically and gazed at Draco with his head held high.

"You called me?" Harry said nonchalantly, valiantly ignoring the way his heart picked up momentum and was now beating like a caged bird when Draco smirked and swaggered towards him.

"Why have you been following me?"

Okay. At this crucial juncture, Harry had two paths to take. He could either a) bite the bullet and confess his true feelings to Draco at this very second, thus erasing the need for The Dreaded Number Seven, but Draco was clearly not in one of his better moods right now, judging by the way he loomed menacingly over Harry and the way his slate-grey eyes glowered back challengingly, or b) Pretend.

Naturally, Harry chose b).

"Following you? Why… why would I want to follow you? I'm just sitting here, enjoying the wonderful weather and pondering about life in general! You're the one who barged in here with no reason at all!" Harry snapped back, the tops of his voice echoing amidst the crowns of the trees that encircled both boys.

"Then what is _this_ doing here?" Draco bit back, indicating the glaring evidence that came in the form of the Invisibility Cloak.

"I… I'm bird-watching! They're really shy, you see, so you've got to be almost… _non-existent_ for them to come out and play, you know. Can you hear it now, this… um… high-pitched, squeaking sound?" Harry pointed out, tilting his head expertly to the right. "That's a red-breasted finkle sparrow!" He hedged, hoping that Draco would fall for it.

Somewhere in the distance, a cricket chirped happily.

"Cut the crap, Potter. You were there, outside Dervish & Banges, cleaning the snow off your shoes-"

"I was doing no such thing!"

"The snow was moving by itself, and I saw a glimpse of your shoes!"

…

Well, yes, there was that little, meddlesome detail.

"And you were behind me at Honeydukes, breathing so heavily and… sniffing me like some deranged madman, and someone bumped into you, I heard you yelp! Stop it, Potter, stop it with whatever you're doing! I'm grateful to you for saving my family, but rest assured, we're not planning some revolt, so there's no need to keep tabs on me-"

"That had never crossed my mind! How could you even think that I'll make slurs on your family like that?" Harry retorted, an oh-so-familiar feeling of antagonism rising up from beneath like a dormant sea monster. A hurt Harry took in Draco's tightly pursed lips, those impaling eyes which held none of the warmth and affection that Harry wanted, no, _needed, because I'm crazy for you, why, I'm going mad over you, every day, every night, I want you, I need you, why can't you see it-_

A blistering torrent of conflicting emotions assaulted Harry ruthlessly, and he hung his head, a whisper of an agonizing gulp barreling down his throat. The brunette tugged disconsolately at his hair, feeling his heart sink like a boulder all the way down to his shoes _we'll never, never_-

"There's something you're not telling me," Draco summed up succinctly. He took a predatory step forward, and Harry could only drop his gaze, cloaking his eyes from the other boy's eagle-eyed study. Starbursts of desire and passion exploded and scattered all over Harry's system. He had never been in such close contact with Draco before, in this setting, with the moon glittering down flirtatiously on them, as though encouraging Harry with shimmers of ribbon romance fluttering on the breeze-

_do you love me-_

Harry had kept his eyes, but never his hands, on Draco. At that thought, a full-body blush consumed Harry, whose wriggling toes were bent over double with shyness in his shoes. The lapsing silence hung between both boys like a third shadow, and Harry felt that it was time to break it, smooth it over-

"It's because… I… I…" Harry murmured softly, wondering why the words, that were so close, nestled at the tip of his tongue and flittering on his lips, refused to come out properly-

_or love me not?_

"Hmmm?" Draco breathed, and Harry watched as the blond's fingers uncoiled around his wand, his arm falling limply to his side. The trace of a smirk played kittenishly on Draco's lips, every dash of his snowy eyelashes sending Harry's heart rebounding in a nervous ricochet. The (sexual) tension between them was dangling precariously from a knife's edge, and Harry could hardly believe that this was happening, it was so… fatally _surreal-_

Draco's eyes were conveying something which Harry could not decipher.

No, this would not do.

Harry just couldn't _you haven't even spoken to him yet, how can you profess your love to him like this?_- say it. His overbearing reserve was the stumbling block to all of this, and Harry ransacked his brain urgently for some tidbit of information to start a decent conversation with.

Licking his dry lips, Harry riffled aimlessly in his pockets, looking for a galvanizing trigger to showcase his dazzling wit, and it didn't take long before his fingers clutched around some sort of box that was roughly the size of his hand, and with hope slashing across him like a soaring hawk, Harry heaved a sigh of relief and pulled it out-

* * *

Yes, it went horribly.

"Then what happened? You almost told him, didn't you? You can't leave it just like that!" Hermione all but shrieked as Harry, Ron, Hermione and Luna sat in a circle in the courtyard after a depressed Harry had returned. They had been carrying out a dissection of Harry's stalking, and Harry paused at this critical point in his narration. The poor brunette was slouched wretchedly, his folded arms splayed on the table and his chin resting wearily on his wrists.

"I offered him a Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean."

With that dramatic announcement, Harry miserably pulled out the much-maligned box of Bertie Bott's Beans and set it sadly on the table.

Hermione, Ron and Luna all looked at the box of Beans with echoing horror.

Hermione was the first to recover.

"Did the both of you discuss your favorite flavors after that, perhaps? Or did he accept one with gratitude?" Hermione tried hopefully.

Harry lifted dismal eyes to Hermione.

"I fled."

Four similar sighs rang out from the table.

"It was a completely wild goose chase! I don't understand why I had to do all of that, Luna! I need an explanation," Harry demanded, and things fell quiet as the three Gryffindors looked expectantly at Luna.

"Well… we learnt that Draco still doesn't like you very much," Luna said meditatively, as though it was some sort of earth-shattering revelation.

Harry let out a tortured moan.

"It's mating season right now for the Humping Wrackspurts, Harry. There's a higher chance for error. Their measuring of Draco's feelings to you might not be as accurate. So I had no choice but to send you out there and initiate some sort of contact with him. I wanted to see how he would react to you," Luna explained.

"Really?" Harry immediately perked up. It sounded like it would be a large sum of error! Maybe Draco fancied Harry right back, contrary to what those bloody Wrackspurts had been telling Luna. This could be it! If he knew that he had a chance with Draco, it'll be great!

"How much of an error, Luna? Twenty percent? Or even fifty percent?" Harry asked in excitement.

"Zero point zero one percent."

…

_ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH._

"Come now, Harry. There's no point in pulling a long face. Chin up!" Luna rallied gaily. "As my father used to say, even the best laid plans can be disrupted by stray Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. Ron, can I have the list?"

Ron, who had been keeping the list for Harry, pulled the parchment out and handed it over to Luna.

"I knew it wouldn't be easy to pair the both of you up, but I never thought it'd be this tricky either," Luna mused as she whipped out a quill from behind her ear and, to Harry's dread, she began to scribble something at the end of the list.

"Hang on, Luna, what are you doing?" Harry squawked, but the damage was already done. A grinning Luna turned the list over to Harry's direction.

"This isn't even a word, it's only an alphabet!" Harry said, confused.

"It's not confirmed and I'll have to work on it by myself before I reveal it to you. Harry, you have to understand that there is no sure method to bring two people together. It's not like following a set of instructions set in stone; there's a lot of trial and error. When I requested for you to follow Draco tonight, I already knew that you would slip up-"

"What?"

"Draco's not daft. Do you remember sixth year, on the Hogwarts Express? He was sharp enough to discover you hiding in the Slytherin compartment even when you were trying your best to eavesdrop on them. So it was only natural to assume that he would blow your cover again tonight, because you would be bumbling-"

"I did not _bumble_-"

"Yes, you did, Harry. Now, from what you have told me, he was hostile straight from the start, something which I didn't expect at all. Because of that, I had to add another item, but please don't worry about that. Well, not _yet_, that is. But Draco also behaved rather strangely himself, didn't he? It was as if he _knew_ what you were going to confess. He might have been making fun of you, but it didn't feel like that, did it?" Luna asked gently, her amiable eyes widening meaningfully at the brunette.

"No. He didn't taunt me or anything," Harry reiterated, feeling his face heat up again when he recalled the sweet sizzling between their bodies and the molten, beguiling eye contact that had transpired-

"Draco's not an easy code to crack. It's problematic for me too, Harry, so do bear with me when things start to get a bit difficult," Luna said placidly and patted Harry's hand comfortingly. She picked up the quill again and placed an energizing tick at number four.

"It's about time that we started on number five," Luna said.

Harry swallowed thickly.

**5) Keep a sex diary. **

Ron immediately straightened up, the intrigued glint in his eyes registering interest.

"I'm not having sex with anyone right now," Harry said truthfully.

"I know," Luna said simply.

Silence reigned for a while.

"I think you've got the wrong idea. I need you to document your fantasies about Draco. Not all of it, but the hottest ones that you use when you play with yourself. You can take your time to fill up the pages of the book, there's no rush at all," Luna explained plainly as though she was discussing about the weather.

What the hell was she playing at? Was Luna going to keep a collection of gay porn literature?

"But he can't wank and write at the same time, can he?" Ron piped up, genuinely curious.

"That's why I've written this spell down," a beaming Luna pointed to an incantation at the bottom of the list. "All Harry needs to do is cast a spell on a quill and the same book whenever he wanks, and whatever that is going on in his mind will be automatically recorded down in the diary. It's something like the Quick-Quotes Quill, but a much more… arousing adaptation," Luna described.

"How do you know spells like this?" Ron asked, amazed.

"Well, my father stumbled across it and mentioned it briefly in the Quibbler. Sales did shoot up three-fold for that issue, but we thought that it was just a coincidence. Besides, who wants to know about mundane things such as sex compared to the vastly important breakthrough that links Loser's Lurgy to the life cycle of Umgubular Slashkilters? Anyway, I've got to go now. It's time for me to change my Butterbeer cork necklace. Do have fun with your sex diary!" Luna trilled and merrily skipped away, leaving a stunned Harry in her wake.

This was un-_bloody_-believable.

* * *

A still-panting Harry lay motionless in his bed, his dazed and dilated eyes staring up at the ceiling. The sheets beneath him were wrinkled, unkempt and damp with his sweat and burning testosterone. He hadn't even had the presence of mind to kick off his underwear, and it lay tangled and trapped beneath his right ankle. The rest of his clothes were scattered on all four corners of his bed, and Harry exhaled a hungry sigh that was rich with leftover lust. He had initially thought that the more he wanked about Draco, the ardor and explicit need would fade away with time, but it only gotten stronger and stronger, until Harry felt that _only _Draco and no one else could unlock the secret to his arousal.

He felt the throbbing heat gradually ease up and fizz away, and Harry fumbled over to his bedside table for his glasses. His lips hiking up almost apprehensively, Harry plucked the quill away from his diary and thumbed through the clean pages of the innocent-looking book. It had only been three weeks ever since he had bought the notebook, but almost half of the pages had already been filled by the quill's scrawl. The penmanship of the nimble quill would start out rather uncluttered and orderly, but as Harry's thoughts grew wilder and more scandalous, it would spiral towards a mutated frenzy, with the sentences veering off the ruled lines, sneaking over to the borders of the pages, and Merlin, if things got really, really heated, the nib of the quill would even lose control and rip a deep gash right through the heart of the page.

_What fantasy is this_, Harry wondered as he prodded a finger through the jagged edge of a page that looked like it had been mutilated by a dozen murderous quills.

It was the stripper fantasy, where Draco acted like a complete slut and offered himself up like dessert, all only for Harry's enjoyment. This particular fantasy would always make Harry come the hardest. Harry immediately blushed beetroot red at that memory and scanned through it. When it was in his head, it felt perfectly alright, but when the whole carousel of his pornographic promises were written out and displayed like that for all to see, god, they were so thoroughly _filthy_-

Shit, he was getting hard all over again.

Shaking his head to clear the remnants of sex from his mind, Harry quickly cleaned himself up and stowed the diary away at the bottom of his trunk. He changed into his pyjamas and prepared his notes for school tomorrow, complete with McGonagall's Animagus books. Harry hadn't had much difficulty with the first few lessons of practical Animagus, since he was pretty good at Transfiguration and thankfully excellent at Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms. Being good in these three subjects held Harry in good stead during his classes with McGonagall, much to his delight. But he still had a lot to learn and improve on.

Harry flopped back to bed and snuggled contentedly into the cocoon of blankets, and it only took a while before he felt himself coasting effortlessly into the realm of slumber, and the last thought that he had before he dropped off firmly to sleep was '_at_ _least the diary would stay behind locked doors._'

Really, Harry, really?

_-shh._

* * *

"Hello, Neville!"

Upon hearing Luna's sprightly voice, Neville felt his heart leap up a few notches. He pulled off his pair of dragon hide gloves and turned to face Luna.

"How's the repotting of this batch of Fanged Geraniums?" Luna asked as she wandered deeper in the rows of the greenhouse, smiling blithely to herself when one Puffapod instantly flowered under her touch.

"Monstrous, but I'm assisting Professor Sprout, so things are a bit better for her. What brings you here? I could meet you in the library, I'm a complete mess right now," Neville said with mild mortification, gesturing to the inconvenient splashes of mooncalf dung on his sleeves.

"No, it's perfectly fine," Luna reassured the Gryffindor. With a rare spirit of seriousness radiating from her eyes, Luna heaped her waterfall of blonde hair together, swept it over her shoulder and brought it forward in a business-like manner.

"I need your help with something, Neville."

* * *

**/tbc**

Bunny!Harry is going to be the star of the show next chapter, and we get more than just a mere glimpse of Draco from next chapter onwards.

Chapter 4 will only be posted on **18****th**** July**, because I'll be off to London and Paris for the next three weeks. Hopefully I'll be back safe and on time. (:


	4. Exhibition

**Hardly Rational by xErised**

**Exhibition**

**

* * *

**

**6) Unveil your Animagus form. **

Hermione, Ron, Harry and Luna were stationed discreetly at one of Hogwarts' numerous staircases. Crackling, lit lamps that occasionally spat out miniscule specks of fire cast a soft, warm glow upon the four of them. Small knots of students who had finished their dinner early milled and dawdled in the palatial corridors of the school. The four of them had also taken efforts to hasten their evening meal, not because they had piles of homework to do, but simply because tonight was showtime. This was the place that the Slytherin boys always passed by when they made their way back to the dungeons after dinner.

"You don't think I would have forgotten it, would you, Harry? Hand it over," Luna requested quietly, the cadences of her voice rising slightly with amusement and a touch of sternness.

Harry cursed silently in his head and tightened his grip on his sex diary. He looked furtively around him and cautiously drew it out from his robes. Three-quarters of the book were filled with Harry's deepest desires and filthiest fantasies, and the brunette gulped agonizingly. He extended his hand slightly towards Luna, who had an encouraging smile on her face and was waiting patiently for the diary.

"Looks… pretty tame for a sex diary," Ron crooned playfully, raising his eyebrows mischievously and performing a particularly lewd thrust with his hips.

"Of course it'll be a nondescript black book! What did you think, Ron, that I'd get a fire-engine red book with the words 'Harry Potter's sex diary, please do not open' embossed on the front _bloody _cover?" Harry huffed, then sighed and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he turned to Luna. "I have no sodding idea why you want it, but please, please swear to me that no one will read it."

"If I ever let Draco set his eyes on your diary, the Nargles will be devoured mindlessly by the entire species of Moon Frogs and will never be able to procreate forever due to the unfortunate, but eventual wilting of their reproductive organs and will thus die out within two point seven five years," Luna rattled off solemnly, her lips pulled together into a grim line.

…

Harry didn't know what the hell Luna meant, but she seemed pretty serious.

With that, Harry silently surrendered the diary over to the beaming blonde, who squirreled it away in between the pages of the month's edition of The Quibbler.

"Now that we've got that done, show us what McGonagall's taught you. Quickly now, Draco will be returning to his dormitories anytime soon," Luna pointed out while she skimmed her fingers through the long, flaxen tendrils of her hair and grinned warmly at Harry. Beside Luna, Hermione's beguiling smile was of equal wattage with Ron. Harry crooked his head slightly towards the diminishing clusters of students in their vicinity, and without a single word, Ron nodded and stood behind Harry with his chest puffed out and his arms folded importantly. Ron's height easily blocked any prying eyes, and Harry was grateful for the extra protection.

With a deep, hearty inhale, a determined squaring of his shoulders and his eyes closed with diligence, the Gryffindor kept McGonagall's commandeering words looped confidently in his mind. If he was being honest with himself, Harry still needed more practice to perfect the Animagus process, but McGonagall had made it exceptionally clear that she was very proud of Harry's progress and was sure that Harry could pull the transformation off without a hitch anytime, but only if he concentrated very, very hard.

"Harry! Oh, you're adorable! Come here, you little _monster_!" Hermione cooed as she scooped the bunny off from the ground carefully and proceeded to communicate with Harry solely in baby-speak.

Instead of a full-fledged boy hero standing in front of them, Harry was now a small bunny the size of Hermione's combined palms, complete with a glossy coat of ash-black fur, a small, round stump of a tail, tiny paws that were folded placidly under his soft, squishy little bunny body. Harry fluttered his round, coal-black eyes closed as though he was a newborn doe.

Ron simply looked horrified.

"You're so cute and fluffy and furry and… and… _cute_! I could just eat you up!" Hermione squealed with rapture and nuzzled Harry happily, much to the poor boy's alarm. She fussed over Harry by tickling his cottontail and giggling when he let out an absolutely lovable squeak. Harry lifted up a paw and patted the scar on his head that resembled a faded lightning bolt.

"So that's your distinguishing mark. At least it's not as apparent as having the trait of green eyes," Hermione thought out loud, before shaking her head roughly and squashing a protesting Harry against her cheek and cuddling him to death.

"Show us your cutest look," Luna piped up.

With that, Harry straightened up in Hermione's cupped hands, let out a quiet sniffle, widened his eyes and bunched himself up into a warm little ball, one of his ears flopping tastefully over his left eye.

Hermione practically melted.

"Bloody hell, Harry! Any moment she's going to ask you to… to jump into a hoop and do circus acts for entertainment!" Ron croaked out, his voice a cocktail of amusement and horror. Harry blinked, sat back up on his paws and edged out another squeak. He hopped agilely off Hermione's hands and transformed back to his human form, much to Hermione's disappointment.

"It looks fine, doesn't it?" Harry asked, his fretted brow furrowing as he felt the first few pinpricks of doubt and uncertainty nibbling away at his composure.

Luna nodded serenely, a satisfied smile poised on her lips. At that point, the grunts of Goyle filtered through the hallways, coupled together with the murmurs of Blaise and Theodore. Ron, Hermione and Luna immediately galvanized into action and hurried back, leaving Harry alone in the spotlight.

"Luna, he might not like bunnies, he might not even like pets in the first place!" Harry squawked, feeling cold, clammy sweat gather in his palms. Merlin, this could go horribly wrong! He could mess up the transformation and give it all away, or Draco could find out that Harry was… was deceiving him like this and make things worse, or… or-

"What if he lures me into the dungeons and gets Goyle to_ sit_ on me! I don't want to be sat on by Goyle!" Harry yelped, his voice spiraling upwards with horror while he scampered back to his friends, his lovely, caring, supportive friends…

… who, in turn, shoved him unceremoniously out from the strategically placed suit of armor.

"It's now or never!" Ron hissed encouragingly, flipping him a thumbs-up and jerking his head in the direction of the Slytherins, who, judging by the ever-increasing volume of their footsteps and voices, were advancing forward with every passing moment. Worrying his lip, the brunette quickly executed a flawless transformation, sprinted at top speed towards the stone bench and catapulted himself up on it. He patted and nestled the fur neatly over his scar, making sure that it was as unnoticeable as possible.

With his whiskers twitching in anxiety, Harry minced forward to the edge of the bench, widened his eyes, drooped his ears and squeaked adorably at the Slytherin boys. His heart puffing away like an overworked train in his chest, Harry brought himself up on his haunches when Draco paused. There was a curious frown on his face as he regarded the charcoal-black bunny that was gazing at him with an air of forlorn lovesickness.

Draco stooped down, fixed the furry animal with a level stare and snorted at the bunny with derision.

"Probably some Muggle-pet-loving student brought you in here. Won't be surprised if it was Granger, based on the past ownership of that ghastly ginger house cat of hers. Matter of fact, that house cat looks a bit like the Weasel to me. Guess there's no accounting for taste," Draco drawled dismissively and straightened up, patting down his robes. "Let's go, boys. We don't have time for trivialities like lost pets."

With that, the Slytherins swept off regally without another word, leaving a devastated bunny in their wake.

RESULT:

**CUTENESS FAIL. **

With his heart sinking as fast as it had risen, Harry growled at nothing in particular and transformed back. His initial confidence evaporating like a rainbow, Harry stormed back and with his lips tightened in a confrontational line, demanded an explanation from Luna.

Luna only looked vaguely surprised.

"No one would have expected Draco to react to you instantaneously, Harry. You should know clearly by now how his character would be like. In fact, I'd be shocked if he immediately adopted you like a lost child and pronounced you as his official pet. I never planned for it to work this way. Patience, Harry, patience," Luna said sagely as she scribbled something furiously in the margins of her Quibbler.

Harry sighed in disappointment and scratched the back of his head, his mind slowly coming to terms and acknowledging what Luna had said.

"So now what?" Ron asked.

Luna's eyes twinkled with mirth before she replied cheerfully.

"We'll do this all over again, of course."

* * *

This was bloody madness.

The accumulation of snowflakes underneath his paws irked Harry to no end. Impish gusts of wind played tic-tac-toe across his fur while the steel-grey clouds trudged aimlessly and pointlessly high up in the sky. It felt as though someone from the heavens above had covered the world with a stifling, velvet smog that felt so much like a kidnappers' cloak.

Even the stars seemed to be missing their usual chirpiness and quirk.

Harry shuddered and curled himself up into a ball, tucking his paws miserably under his body. He inched himself forward on the stone bench and drooped his little bunny body sadly on it, a plaintive sigh ghosting from his lips. Patience had never been his forte, and he currently felt irritatingly powerless. Sure, he plonked his furry little bum at the appointed position and time every night, but nothing had changed. The Slytherins definitely noticed him, that was a given, but it seemed that Luna was simply content for Harry to rinse and repeat this particular step in the List like clockwork. Even Ron and Hermione were getting disheartened with the daily humdrum of each passing night, and Harry couldn't blame them.

The Gryffindor jerked his head to his friends that were waiting in the wings. Luna was gazing quietly at him while she tapped her loaded quill on the border of the Quibbler that she was holding. Ron was yawning and drawing patterns in the snow with the toes of his shoes, while Hermione, having caught Harry looking in dismay at them, smiled comfortingly and purposefully at Harry.

The snow under Harry was melting slowly, but surely. With a poorly executed slide of his body, Harry felt himself losing grip on the slippery stone bench and plopping miserably face-down into the clump of snow.

…

Harry stayed motionlessly there for a while, with his face smushed in a handful of snow and his body sagging as though the wind had been knocked out of him.

With that, Harry gingerly began to wiggle his bum out of the bed of snow, and then ended up yelping in surprise when out of nowhere, he felt a pair of hands wrap themselves around his belly and extricate him carefully from the snow. Harry shook his head slightly and blinked the crystals of snow from his eyes. He bit back a gasp when he realized that it wasn't Hermione, or even Ron who had salvaged him, but instead, Draco.

Draco cradled the bunny in his hands, gradually becoming aware of the fact that the animal's heart had suddenly picked up speed and was beating in double quick time. Draco's left eyebrow was arched in mild query, his lips twitching as though he was trying not to smile. With a resigned sigh, the Slytherin delicately brushed the snow off Harry's floppy ears, his fingers caressing the soft curve of the bunny's warm body and using his nails to flick the snow off between its paws.

On the other side of the interaction, Harry was already lost in mid-swoon, his eyes fluttering closed and a gooey smile quivering on his mouth. Why, it was miraculous how Harry could suddenly feel the sharp, delicious tang of winter mint and fresh dew that pervaded, and Merlin, the moon was out, bright, milky-white and luminous, and it was downright _wonderful _how the stars were winking like the lights of a perfectly-trimmed Christmas tree!

And, oh, what gentle hands Draco had, like… like hands gifted from an _angel_!

The bunny's whiskers twitched joyously, and when it leant happily on the inside of Draco's wrist and began to nuzzle itself contentedly against Draco's skin, Draco reared back in mild surprise.

"Guess you really are as silly as you look," Draco commented quietly as he placed Harry back on the bench. A split-second of indecision zipped across quicksilver grey eyes when the bunny sniffled sadly and rubbed its wet nose adorably on Draco's thumb. The bunny draped its body pitifully on the bench, its ears sagging disconsolately as it squeaked needily at Draco, its blinking black eyes held as round as dinner plates.

Draco dropped his gaze down the shivering bunny and let out a yielding sigh, carding his fingers through his hair. Without another word, Draco wordlessly scooped Harry up in his hands yet again, nestled him securely in the crook of his elbow and carted Harry away. Hardly able to suppress the joy overflowing in his heart like a dam, Harry snuggled his wriggling body into Draco's robes, turned towards his friends and pumped a bunny paw triumphantly into the air.

Hermione had already nudged Ron awake, and behind them, Luna was furiously scrawling sentences in the Quibbler, a smile like a shower of sparks igniting her lips.

"Why does it feel like we just sent him to the lions' den?" Ron grumped, earning a stern shush from Hermione.

"Looks like you're getting soft in your old age, Draco," Blaise teased.

"Shut it," Draco muttered darkly under his breath, his fingers unwittingly seeking out the softer patch of fur at the back of Harry's neck and stroking it pleasantly as the Slytherins progressed towards the dungeons.

"Look at its face, sweet Salazar, it looks like it's having a sodding _orgasm_!" Theodore remarked, bringing his face closer to Harry and blinking nosily at it. True enough, the bunny had its eyes closed in ecstasy and it was making excited purring noises that could actually be categorized as quite _disturbing_. Draco paused in his ministrations, much to Harry's chagrin. With a displeased expression on his face, Harry burrowed himself deeper into Draco's arm and wiggled his bum tauntingly at Theodore.

"Did- did that bunny just _sneer_ at me?" Theodore asked, his eyes round with astonishment.

"Aw, I like him already," Draco smirked, his voice conditioned purposely in a high-pitched tone as he mocked Theodore not unkindly. Draco shifted the bunny so that he was using both hands to support its abdomen, raised his arms marginally and regarded it with a calculative gleam in his eyes.

In response, the bunny only burbled happily and winked friskily at Draco. Draco tilted his head, something akin to puzzlement settling on his features. He shrugged in a non-committal fashion as he stepped through the Slytherin portrait hole and wound his way through the main hall and up to the dormitories.

"Did you notice what was up with Potter today? He was acting real funny in Double Potions," Blaise piped up as he ferreted around in his trunk for his night-clothes.

It was strange how the bunny in Draco's arms seemed to have frozen up.

_tongue-tied_

_and overloaded- _

"No, I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary," Theodore replied, but continued to verbalize his musings, "However, I did notice that Lovegood's been spending a lot more time with Potter and his friends, especially in between classes with their heads bent down in discussion and all that. Wonder what sort of scheme they're hatching," Theodore finished, punctuating the end of his sentence with a sharp snort.

"Maybe Lovegood and Potter are dating!" Blaise suggested mischievously while he shrugged off his robes.

"I highly doubt so," Draco snorted imperiously and cast a quick glance at the bunny that was currently on his bed, making sure that it had no chance of falling off.

"What makes you so sure?" Blaise shot back.

"His eyes are too nice for Lovegood," Draco blurted out with a quick roll of his eyes heavenward.

A stunned silence descended amongst the boys, and Draco's cheeks seemed to have turned a little pink as he quickly back-tracked.

"Of course I'm not saying that Potter's eyes are nice, that's completely _preposterous_, instead of his eyes being that beautiful vibrant shade of…_ fern_ green that everyone seems to think they are, his eyes are… in fact like… diseased _moss_! It's like staring into his eyes and saying 'I love you' to a… sickly _toad_!"

…

"Not that I've ever entertained thoughts of saying 'I love you' to Potter, mind you!" Draco huffed shortly and tried to salvage the situation. With that, he curtly turned his back on his friends, who were trading bewildered glances with each other.

With his eyebrows still pinched together, Draco kicked his shoes and socks off, took hold of the drapes around his four-poster and yanked them together, providing some semblance of flimsy privacy.

It was funny how the bunny seemed to be shielding its eyes from Draco.

"I don't know how you got here, or who you belong to, but all I know is that for the past two weeks, you've been there at the same place and at the same time. It's… odd how you turn up like that, as though you appear just for me. I don't know what you're playing at, but…" Draco thought aloud, but dropped his voice drastically before continuing his words, "… you really are quite decent-looking, you know?"

Draco pulled back the covers on the bed and leaned back into his pillows. He scrutinized the bunny in his hands for a moment before lapsing into conversation again. Long fingers combed meditatively through the bunny's fur as Draco talked, his voice kept so low that Harry had to strain to hear every word.

"It was… silly, I suppose, but I reckon every kid wanted a pet at some point in their lives. Father was busy, and Mother equally so, so it was just me rattling around in that huge mansion of ours. Of course there were the regular prescribed pets, the usual cats, rats and… toads."

At this point, Draco made a face.

"They were all so boring, and I knew I was going to get an owl when I was old enough for Hogwarts. I wanted a bird, no, not those silly birds that spent their lives squawking and making a truckload of pointless noise, I wanted those… those birds that could actually reply you when you talked to them."

Draco paused and uncrossed his legs while he continued to reminisce.

"We had a vast library in the mansion with all sorts of books. So I stumbled on this particular book that explored the different species of animals in the magical world, which I found to be rather intriguing. But at the very end, the author did write a short chapter on the animals of the Muggle world, and I skimmed through it. They have…_ parrots_, don't they, birds that can talk to you. I wanted something like that, but obviously, I didn't get anything like that in the end. In fact, I don't even think I got a proper pet," Draco finished, wrinkling his nose. He channeled an inquisitive look at the bunny, which seemed to be listening attentively.

"It looks like you actually understand what I'm talking about, which is, of course, _highly_ impossible," Draco pronounced firmly and deposited Harry on his bed-side table. With that, Draco rifled through his trunk and procured a set of clean pyjamas. Next, he proceeded to take off his-

…

Holy _shit_.

Thank Merlin that Harry's fur was black and not white, if not the full-body blush that was enveloping him right now would make him look like a bloody_ Pygmy Puff_, for Merlin's sake, hang on, hang on, that was… that was naked skin!

Not just any skin, it was naked_ Draco_ skin!

Harry's eyes began to glaze over.

Harry shook his head sternly and turned his back resolutely on the developing scene. The angel in the trapdoor of his mind burst out onto the forefront of his muddled bunny brain. No, it was absolutely wrong and a rude, a _very_ rude invasion of privacy. Imagine the guilt that would plague Harry that night when the Gryffindor went back to his own dormitory to sleep that night! Imagine how cheated Draco would feel if he knew Harry had seen him naked without his consent, why, this was not how Harry wanted to start off their beautiful, blossoming relationship-

Imagine the amount of wanking material Harry could use that night.

…

Screw the angel.

Harry tentatively twitched his head backwards, then purred hotly when he saw a half-naked Draco, his back towards Harry and clad only in his underwear.

This wasn't just brilliant, this was bloody brilliant, Merlin, it was like… it was like Draco was his own private slut and he was performing a private striptease for Harry.

Wanting to get a closer look, Harry brazenly hopped from Draco's bedside table to the edge of Draco's bed. With a paw covering his mouth, Harry let his eyes take a longing, leisurely tour of Draco's million-dollar-body, his walking wet dream, starting from the aristocratic neck, counting down to the knobs of spine that dotted the back of Draco's neck, _shit_, how Harry longed to pull Draco close and physically trace his fingertips around the domes of Draco's shoulders. Further down, the curve of Draco's lower back that accentuated Draco's arse, oh, that sweet vanilla-cream arse craftily concealed below his boxers that was just begging to be taken-

…

He might as well officially change his name to Pervy Potter, because you know what, he deserved it. He deserved every disgusting, degenerate, defaming name in the book thrown at him because he was one, he was a filthy-

Ooh, _legs_!

Draco's fingers halted fractionally at the buttons of his night-shirt. He tilted his head slightly to the right, squiggles of mild discomfort squirming at the pit of his belly. It seemed like he was being… watched. It wasn't the 'stalking' sort of feeling, nor did it feel overly intrusive, but it was felt… rather strange, as though… no, he wasn't just being watched, in fact, Draco was being _drooled upon_…

Draco whipped his head back to the bunny on his bed.

The animal let out a pained squeak, raised its paws and covered its eyes. It stayed in that position for a while, much to Draco's amusement. Bit by bit, the bunny let a paw slide down to its cheek, but then froze when it realized that Draco was still eyeing it critically.

"You're not behaving like a normal rabbit, you know. But I reckon I shouldn't be surprised, it's Hogwarts, after all," Draco remarked, his initial wariness dimming as he sank down to the bed and cradled the bunny in his hands.

"Of course you won't have the honor to call yourself my… pet, why, you might already belong to someone else, but if I… see you around, well…" Draco trailed off uncertainly, his toes curling in hesitation under his folded legs. With sunbeams tugging at his lips up into a brilliant grin, happiness playing a symphony in his heart and his insecurities vanishing like sweetly dissolved nectar, Harry shyly nuzzled himself against Draco's palms.

The stage was finally set.

* * *

He was feeling his way cautiously up the road, performing a delicate little waltz with a clueless Draco Malfoy as his unwitting partner. Throughout the two and a half weeks, Harry easily picked up quirks and eccentricities about the other boy. He learnt that on some days, Draco was more talkative than normal as he outlined the day's events, while on other days, Draco was happily content to have Harry's warm body snuggled up on his chest on a cold winter's night with no words attached. Harry could spend a varying amount of time with Draco, but one thing was for certain; Harry would never stay over. On top with the maelstrom of homework and essays that he had to complete, Harry felt that it was too risky to sleep in his bunny form. After every night, Harry would give Draco's finger one last nibble, dart out of the Slytherin dorms and squeeze out of the Slytherin portrait hole before making his way back to Gryffindor dorms.

_"I wish you were a real person," _Draco had whispered oh-so-softly one day, his irises held so grey, drawing comparisons with a stormy night sky studded with _heart-cut diamonds_, turbulent, but yet beautiful all at the same time. And Harry had blinked, dipped his head and refused to meet Draco's eyes, afraid of what Draco would do if he really knew the truth.

Once, Harry had made the mistake of waiting for Draco outside the Slytherin portrait hole and had drawn the attention of a gaggle of cooing Slytherin girls, who unabashedly picked him up and proceeded to cuddle the hell out of him, much to Harry's horror.

A thundering Draco had appeared, his jaw jutting out combatively and his eyes alight with anger. He had snatched Harry up, took in the way that Harry's mussed fur was sticking up and the stunned look in Harry's eyes and proceeded to snarl vituperatively at the cowering girls.

_"We didn't know he belonged to you, Draco-"_

_"What? He… He doesn't belong to me, for Salazar's sake! I would have expected Slytherins to have more decorum and pride than to melt in front of a mere… bunny! Now return to your dorms while I get rid of this… animal!"_

And in full sight of the girls, Draco sniffed pompously, laid Harry down on the ground, shoved the bunny unceremoniously out of the way and shooed the girls back to the Slytherin dorms.

Harry counted a full five seconds in his head before Draco had tentatively poked his head out from the portrait hole, bit his lip, gazed sheepishly around and swiftly grabbed the bunny with both hands and hid a grinning Harry in his robes.

The turning point came when Draco had given Harry a name.

_"I think I'll call you Puffy. It suits you, doesn't it?"_

And this was what proved to Harry that he was on the way to unchaining Draco's smile.

"So what do you think?" Harry enquired after giving Luna a quick update about the previous weeks.

"There's been excellent progress, Harry. You've done really well. So I'm quite confident that we can move on to…"

Harry swallowed a gulp, mustered up a watery smile and he stared at the lone sentence written neatly on the List.

_The Dreaded Number Seven._

* * *

She treaded lightly, each footstep kept as graceful as a ballet dancer.

The trademark chill of the Slytherin dungeons grazed across Luna's skin while she advanced towards Draco's bed. Instead of natural moonlight lighting up the empty boys' dormitory, there was a single, faltering candle poised beside the bed of each Slytherin boy.

Luna loosened her grip on the nondescript book held in her left hand, and in one smooth, fluid motion, parted the curtains on Draco's four-poster. With a devilish tilt to her eyebrows and a smile with the innocence of a sinner, Luna pulled back the sensual, silk bedsheets gently and tucked Harry's sex diary in Draco's bed.

With a quick charm, Luna reinvigorated the dying flame near Draco's bed and admired how it brightened and illuminated the diary, spilling warmth and surprise on the worn black cover and the secrets locked within the pages. Luna stood there quietly for a while, as guilty as a child, the balls of her feet rocking up and down, her hands clasped behind her back and her head crooked to one side as though she was second-guessing herself.

But she broke the spell by winking mischievously at the diary, and in her mind's eye, the diary winked playfully back at her. Luna exhaled deeply and patted the sheets back, hiding the diary from unwanted prying eyes. With her job done for the night, the Ravenclaw bit back a sneaky grin and quietly slipped out the way she had come from.

_Have a very, very good night, Draco Malfoy._

* * *

**/tbc**

It was difficult writing this chapter, primarily because of my long hiatus and because the role of Chapter 4 was to slow things down, if not the transition between Draco's emotions would feel too unreal and out of character. Truthfully, I'm not sure myself when Chapter 5 will be released since school starts early January, but I'm telling myself to write a scene every day, even when school starts, so things won't come to such an abrupt standstill like the past three months. As a matter of fact, I'm one-quarters through Chapter 5, which moves much faster and it's shaping up to be loads more fun than Chapter 4.

Thank you for your patience, especially for those who have been PM-ing and emailing me about my hiatus. It really means a lot to me.


	5. An Improper Invitation

**Hardly Rational by xErised**

**An Improper Invitation**

**

* * *

**

Harry could not believe his eyes.

With two agile hops across Draco's bed, Harry bounded towards the lone book that was lying chastely on Draco's dresser. With an impatient squeak, Harry reached up with some difficulty and pawed urgently at the black cover of the diary.

"Oh, that? Apparently someone had taken it upon himself to hand-deliver this… scandal-laden treasure to me. I found it tucked in my bedcovers two days ago. Of course, I did think of it as strange initially, but when I flipped it open…" Draco's voice unraveled into a delighted croon as he kicked off his shoes and grabbed the book from the dresser.

"I never thought that the Golden Boy would have such a wild imagination, but obviously this proved me wrong. I wonder what the Weasel and Granger would think of him when… Puffy? _Puffy_, what's wrong with you? It's just a book!" Draco remarked with alarm.

For some reason, his bunny had its limbs splayed stubbornly across the cover of the book like a furry starfish, halting Draco from opening it.

"It's not as though you could read it anyway…" Draco said crossly under his breath and carefully pried a horrified Harry away from the book.

_Of course I don't need to read it, I wrote the bloody thing! _

Disbelief ran in faint rivulets in Harry's blood while he sat on Draco's stomach, his supposedly calm exterior betraying the mortification pelting him. Harry's nerves were frayed into embarrassment and he shielded his eyes from the pages in despair, one paw quickly patting a shank of fur across his scar. Shock oozed like cold drops of rainwater between his shoulder blades, and Harry huddled himself up in a little ball.

Oh, he remembered every single entry that dripped with slashes of sex, this playful choreography of throbbing heartbeat and flushed skin, the portrayal of his own tongue playing tic-tac-toe on Draco's cock and nails scraping against naked thighs. Harry had described trails of his bubblegum tongue and his smeared fingerprints all over Draco's shivering body, each explicit detail _proof like kisses on a crime scene- _graffitied on the pages.

"It's like porn on demand, you know. There's this particular scene where he's got me bending like I've got no spine whatsoever, and _this_ one, where he's got me all dolled up as a stripper… and the _language_, so utterly _filthy_ and corrupt that it could… Sweet Salazar, _Potter_…" an incredulous Draco petered off, much to Harry's curiosity when he took in Draco's out-of-sync _wonder if he plans to make all of this reality- _breathing. There was a quick peek of tongue as Draco licked his lower lip and snaked the tip of his fingernail coyly down the edge of the book. With his eyes still half-lidded and a glint of slyness gleaming in the moonlight, Draco resolutely snapped the book shut, replaced it in his drawer and locked it firmly.

Harry had initially thought that Draco would rail and rant about the diary, displaying his outrage and discomfort in the form of spitting words, but instead, Draco's reaction to the diary was anything but that. His frown fading from his features, Harry let out a contented sigh and stretched himself out as he basked languidly in Draco's familiar touch.

But Harry didn't miss the way Draco's eyes lingered with unbridled interest on the locked drawer and how the other boy's lips had hooked up in velvet amusement.

* * *

This was going nowhere.

"Luna," Harry started evenly, trying to keep his temper in check. "Did you not know that by doing that you were taking a huge risk? Did you not know that when you practically presented Draco with my diary, you were giving him the… _authority_ to tell not just the Slytherins, but everyone that I _wank_ to him at night? Did you not know that he could easily have made copies and distributed it to the whole of Hogwarts?" Harry pointed out hotly as he worked up a full head of steam. He got up from his seat in the courtyard and paced anxiously while more and more outcomes bombarded his mind like missiles. His words were gaining momentum and his hands were gesticulating wildly in the air while he rambled on.

"Bloody hell, Luna, he could have gone to the newspapers with those copies and… maybe he's been biding his time all this while, Merlin, tomorrow morning there could be the headlines 'POTTER LUSTS AFTER MALFOY! DELICIOUS PICTURES OF POTTER WANKING ON PAGE TWO!' plastered all over the front page of The Daily Prophet, Ron, _Ron_, we're best mates, aren't we? If that happens, promise that you will suffocate me with the morning paper tomorrow! My reputation will be ruined, utterly, completely torn to tatters! And Draco will only regard me with nothing but disgust and loathing! Luna, what have you got to say for yourself!" Harry roared with vigor and trained a formidable glare to the Ravenclaw.

Ron gazed questioningly at Luna, waiting for her answer, while Hermione wringed her hands and squirmed uneasily in the tense atmosphere.

A few crickets chirped joyously and innocently in the grove of trees nearby.

There was a prolonged pause.

"Well, I honestly didn't think of all that," Luna replied blankly, genuinely flummoxed. She tilted her head owlishly and flashed a cherubic smile at the trio.

Harry could only let out a tortured groan.

"If he fancied you, he'll obviously keep it for his own use, won't he? Maybe indulge in a little bit of… late night-time fun of his own. Now _that_ makes perfect sense to me," Luna defended her stand staunchly.

"But has it ever crossed your mind that there could be the_ tiny_, little bit of chance that Draco wouldn't fancy me, Luna? I mean, we've only been enemies since we were _twelve_! Of course he'll wake up one day and go mad over me for some unknown reason! Luna, Luna, _Luna_!" Harry groaned, stomped over to the nearest pillar, did a funny little turn and began thumping the center of his forehead against the pillar in abject misery, all the while muttering darkly under his breath.

…

"Could someone please tell him that that isn't a very healthy thing to do? The Humping Wrackspurts around his head are getting rather dizzy," Luna sighed placidly, as though she saw students hitting their heads against school property on a daily basis.

"The path of love never did run smooth, mate!" Ron said sagely while Hermione quickly pulled Harry away from the poor pillar.

"There really is no need for such theatrics, Harry," Luna said crossly, but paused delicately. "Although the stripper fantasy was really a bit too much, if you ask me-"

"YOU READ THE DIARY, LUNA!"

"Of course! I _am_ the one giving you love advice after all! And are you sure you want to _pound_ him into oblivion, Harry? That sounds a bit too rough for my liking-" Luna was quickly shushed by Harry, who was throwing harried looks at Ron and Hermione, whose eyes were round with feigned innocence.

"You promised me that no one would set eyes on my diary, Luna! Not even you! You swore on your Nargles!" Harry hissed. "And I remembered your promise very well. Looks like the Nargles aren't going to… procreate any longer!" Harry proclaimed triumphantly and folded his arms across his chest dramatically.

"Nargles are naturally sterile, Harry. I thought you knew."

Harry went rather purple in the face.

"YOU MEAN YOU GAVE ME AN EMPTY PROMISE?"

"Something like that," Luna smiled serenely. "But it's all for your own good, Harry. You're a healthy, hot-blooded eighteen-year-old boy! It's natural for you to have thoughts like this."

"I thought you wanted me to write it all down to relieve my sexual tension or something like that, not to deliver my fantasies to Draco!" Harry shrieked and covered his face with his hands, feeling himself burn up in a full-body blush.

"That's enough wallowing in your misery, Harry. Chin up! We've got our next task to move on to!" Luna encouraged heartily and patted Harry's hand comfortingly. Next, she whipped out The List, unrolled it and pointed to The Dreaded Number Seven.

**7) Steal Draco's underwear and keep it as hostage for a date**

...

Harry suddenly realized that he was perilously close to hysteria.

Merlin, all of this angst wasn't going to be good for his heart.

"How am I supposed to carry Draco's… underwear? Put it over my _bloody_ bunny head?" Harry bawled.

"That could be done, but won't it be difficult to see where you're going?" Luna replied in a sedate manner, paying no attention to Harry's sarcasm.

"Look, Luna. He's got the diary. It's bad enough that he knows that I'm lusting after him, but what would he do if he found out I was stealing his sodding underwear? He'll beat me into a pulp, I'm sure!"

"What was his reaction when he was reading the diary?" Luna probed gently, skillfully steering Harry's discontent away with a question of her own. In reply, Harry furrowed his brows together and looked down at his gradually unclenching fists.

"He didn't seem to be angry or… disturbed. In fact, he seemed to be a bit… turned on. I think he read everything. What does this mean? What does all of this mean?" Harry wondered out loud, burying a hand unceremoniously into his hair and ruffling it questioningly.

"Harry! How can you be so intimidated by this simple issue! I won't have any of this defeatist attitude! Now you march right up to the Slytherin dorms and get your hands on as many pairs of Draco's underwear as you can, you hear me! As your best friends, we'll always be there for you!" Hermione said determinedly and placed her hands supportively on Harry's shoulders.

Harry dredged up a smile and was about to thank Hermione profusely when-

"If you need us to color-code Draco's underwear or sort them according to size or sexiness, we'll be glad to do that! Also, if you need us to take pictures of his underwear and collate them into a brilliant collage for you, we will too!" Hermione continued, her words punctuated with dizzy giggles, and it wasn't long before both Ron and Hermione were guffawing loudly at Harry's plight.

"Thanks a lot, guys," Harry grumped moodily.

"Oh, you know we're just playing with you," Hermione reassured affectionately with a fond hug.

"I'll be waiting for news from you about this particular task, Harry. I've been looking forward to this for a while," Luna remarked lightly and threw the Gryffindor a playful wink.

Sometimes, Harry didn't know whether he should strangle or kiss Luna.

* * *

It was during Potions class when Draco spotted it playing a surreptitious game of peek-a-boo out of the corner of Potter's duffel bag. Oh, the unobservant eye might have merely glanced over it, dismissing it as a new silk jacket that Potter had acquired, but not to Draco. It was the same quality of material, the same texture and the exact same shade of scarlet.

Yes, that was definitely Draco's underwear in Harry Potter's bag.

Suspicion prowled like a panther in Draco's stomach as he tore his gaze from Potter's bag and flicked the feather of his quill repetitively against his fingers. The disjointed facts in front of him failed to make a complete picture. The only thing he knew about Potter that was pertinent to the underwear fiasco was that the other boy had a definite sexual interest in him. Draco would have been blind to not notice the disappearance of four pairs of his underwear over a span of several days, and he had temporarily chalked that up to some sort of mix-up. But those facts did not offer an explanation as to how Potter managed to get his paws on Draco's boxers.

And Draco Malfoy wanted answers _now_.

When class had concluded, Draco nodded curtly at his mates and walked ahead without them, his tread brisk and impatient. He stalked behind Harry, Ron and Hermione and waited for the trio to split up before confronting Harry alone.

"Potter!" Draco barked sharply and crossed the distance between them easily with three strides. "What's in your bag?"

"W-What? Just the norm, you know, books, ink and quill and parchment. Nothing special," Harry hedged and backed away rapidly. With a swift swivel of his hips, Harry flipped the bag to his back, hiding it efficiently from Draco.

"Nothing _special_? Well, I reckon you could say so, if you smuggle underwear out of dorms and into your school-bag on a daily basis!" Draco snapped, deftly reached behind Harry and yanked the straps open, ultimately revealing Draco's red silk boxers, which was _incidentally_ and rudely squashed under Harry's heaving books.

"And you didn't even have the courtesy to fold them neatly, for Merlin's sake!" A scandalized Draco choked and gingerly fished his boxers, which were wrinkled like an accordion, out from Harry's bag. The revelation of Harry being an underwear-napper brought with it confusing and disorientating feelings, as though Draco had been descending down a staircase but had accidentally missed a step. His eyes a fiery grey blaze, Draco aggressively pushed Harry to the nearest wall and dangled the underwear in question in front of the other boy.

"I want an explanation and I want it now. How did you get this, hmmm? Did you get your dear Granger to terrorize some Slytherin first-years to obtain the password? Did you bring your beloved Weasel to storm my dormitory when we were having dinner? Tell me, Potter! And I want you to return me the other three pairs _now_!" Draco hissed hotly, his right arm pinning Harry to the wall while his formidable glare skewered Harry.

"I-I _can't_. I can't return you your underwear unless you… you go out on a date with me. I'm sorry, but I'll have to… I'll have to take it back, _thankyouverymuch_!" Harry managed out in a rush and swiped the underwear out of Draco's grasp. He was just about to shove it back into his bag when Draco snatched it back. But Harry refused to relinquish his hold and the two boys suddenly found themselves in a difficult position: Harry was clutching the right leg of Draco's underwear while Draco was holding onto the other leg, but Harry was increasing the pressure and momentum of his grapple, until it seemed as though Draco's favorite pair of silk boxers were about to meet its end-

"You'll have to go on a date with me, if not… if not that's the last you'll see of your underwear!" Harry squawked and bunched his fist up threateningly.

Draco gasped.

"How dare you? How dare you have the utter _gall_ to threaten me with my own clothing? Fine! Have it your way. Just tell me how you got your hands on it! And for the love of Salazar, please, _please_ fold it!" Draco said beseechingly as he abruptly released his grasp and raised his arms in a show of brief docility. Harry obediently folded it to the best of his ability and stuffed it back messily into his bag.

"Well?" Draco demanded as he folded his arms and displayed his patented expression of loftiness. Sweat was dewing uncomfortably on Harry's upper lip, and he momentarily pressed his fingers to his closed eyelids. With his heart like an animal running, Harry gulped.

"I'm Puffy."

Now it was Draco's turn to be taken aback.

"I'm the bunny that has spent almost every night with you. I'm a… bunny Animagus. I learnt it under McGonagall months ago. And the reason you see Puffy patting his forehead so much is because my scar is there, the single distinguishing mark that will reveal my identity. I did it because I wanted to be with you. I know you feel it too, Draco, this mutual attraction sizzling between us that has only been more pronounced after the war. I don't want to wait anymore, because I want you, Draco. I want you physically, emotionally, and romantically. Just please… _tell me when you'll be mine_," Harry mumbled softly and shyly, his cheeks suffused with clouds of red. Maybe this honest proclamation will finally put an end to all the games that they've been playing. Maybe this time, they could stop walking on eggshells and finally make it _real_-

"Harry… Harry Potter, you absolute _pervert_!"

…

Guess not.

"Is that why I found you in my underwear drawer that night, your furry bum poking out from there like some… _sex maniac_! I bet you were rustling happily in there, huh, thinking about possesing the underwear of your object of affection! You were burrowing under it and all, probably… probably even _smelling _it!" Draco hollered, shrugging away the thumping _listen to his words, so heartfelt and genuine- _of his heart, which was twitching with some sort of… relief and… _joy_?

Draco remembered how he had personally stripped away his hard carapace with every subsequent night spent with the bunny, and for his pet to turn out to be none other than _Potter_, whose black hair was so reminiscent of the scrawls and scribbles of ink in the sex diary-

"I feel so… violated! The first night, the first night when you appeared, Merlin, you saw me_ naked_! And that… sex diary of yours! All of those scenes of you thrusting _merrily _away in me, Potter, you pervert-"

"But you _liked _reading the diary!"

"That's besides the_ sodding_ point!"

Draco was currently vacillating like a pendulum between incredulity, disbelief and shock, and suddenly, the domino effect of tumultuous emotions that had started from a drizzle and was now escalating to an overwhelming landslide, and Draco tried to calm himself down, really, he did, squeezing his eyes closed and keeping his breathing as even and as light as possible-

_I will breathe deeply and visualize calm._

But Draco snapped his eyes open, and there he was, those vibrant, viridian eyes shining with hope and affection and everything in between and Draco wasn't used to this sudden distortion of events, with the conflict of his emotions battling for supremacy, and suddenly those fantasies, those fantasies of sex and debauchery seemed to be amplified, blasting forth from the trapdoors of his memories and bubbling violently up the surface. The lust chronicled in the sex diary was as blatant as blushing cheeks and the imaginary sex between them like dirt and glitter _seventh December I'm pushing you up against the wall in the numerous corridors in the school and I'm fucking your beautiful body just the way you always love it, hands on your hips and biting the nape of your neck and my hot breath on your blond hair, and we're doing this in public 'cuz we can't wait any longer, Draco, **I** can't wait any longer- _and before he knew what he was doing, Draco was rushing forward and he was making this provocative, growling sound at the back of his throat, torn between wanting Potter and bashing Potter-

Harry never even saw the punch coming.

* * *

_Today Draco Malfoy, the eternal love of my life, punched me in the jaw. _

_I am going to go get drunk and drown myself in the lake now._

_

* * *

_

An emergency Post-Punch meeting was in order.

"What were you doing with the evidence in your bag, Harry?" Hermione asked, tutting in a motherly fashion while she unwrapped a new pack of ice, placed it in a towel and handed it over to the poor boy.

"His underwear was in my bed when I slept, and I woke up late this morning, Ron, don't you remember? And I've barely done any packing of my cupboards lately, everything's stuffed to the brim there. So I just shoved it in my bag before rushing to morning class, and… that's that," Harry finished feebly, wincing slightly at his injury.

"Mate, why were you sleeping with Malfoy's underwear anyway?" Ron asked curiously.

Harry paused and blushed hotly.

"Ron, don't ask me questions I can't answer," Harry mumbled.

The three of them shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

"Hello everyone!" Luna greeted them cheerily and stared vapidly at the air around the trio before her eyes finally adjusted and zoomed in on a wounded Harry who was nursing his bruised jaw with a pack of ice.

"That looks like it hurts, Harry," Luna commented lightly.

"You think?" Harry yelped.

"Although I didn't really expect him to react in this manner, it really is a rather curious matter. Great Nargles, if someone had tried to steal _my_ underwear in an effort to court me, I'd be rather flattered," Luna remarked in astonishment as she pulled out her ubiquitous copy of the Quibbler and made some notes, hesitating in between sentences as though she was at a loss of words.

"What's next on the list, Luna? Throw myself under a bus?" Harry said wearily and placed the ice down on the table. He had worn his schoolboy crush on his sleeve, and where had that gotten him?

A bloody punch on the jaw and a much-maligned name-calling of _pervert _from his beloved.

Luna straightened up, gathered up her long blond hair composedly and pinned it effortlessly into a neat, business-like bun. She finished off her writing in the Quibbler, stowed her quill away behind her ear and shut the magazine. With her eyes glittering dangerously and a lilt of a smile hinting on her lips, Luna trained a serious glance on the Gryffindor trio and addressed all of them directly.

"Then it's about time we sped it up a bit, isn't it?"

* * *

"_Luna, my love letters to Draco are gone. Guess I should be used to that, huh?"_

"_Of course, Harry!" _

_

* * *

_

It was working already.

Luna Lovegood, mastermind of the current ploy that tangled and writhed between Harry and Draco like a live wire was finally getting concrete results. She was at a perfect vantage point to study both boys; the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall was conveniently situated behind the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables. Luna primly sliced her sausage into slices and forked one piece into her mouth, her eyes discreetly lingering on the form of Harry Potter, who was laughing with his friends over at the Gryffindor site.

However, it was a different tale altogether at the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy looked like he had woken up on the wrong side of bed today, judging by the way his jaw jutted out in a combative fashion while his narrowed grey eyes pinioned Harry's every action, as if he was trying to decipher the other boy. His thin lips were turned down in a petulant pout, culminating in a great scowl that was directly channeled to an oblivious Harry who was paying him no attention.

That only served to incense Draco further.

You see, Luna had taken the liberty to owl one of Harry's love letters to Draco every morning. Luna had been delighted when she noted down Draco's reaction to the letters – Draco had registered surprise when he realized that it was Harry, then a quick, aversive pivot of the eyes to make sure that no one was peeking over his shoulder before opening it carefully under the table. She took in the rare, self-conscious smile that had graced his mouth and the way the grin crinkled the sides of his eyes and swept his cheeks upwards wonderfully.

_I'm gonna give you a letter of all the things that I can't say-_

Then she had elaborately timed the departure of letters until they had slowly dwindled in frequency, dropping off to once every two days, until now, where Draco had not received any letters at all in a week.

Draco brusquely excused himself from the Slytherin table, muttered something to his friends, seized his bag and thundered out from the Great Hall. In response, Harry whipped his head around to Draco's retreating back, trying to conceal the heartbreak reflected in his stricken green eyes and the smile wilting off his lips.

With that, Luna smiled secretively into her orange juice.

* * *

"Ron and Hermione, I'm going to need your help with this one," Luna requested politely, the nib of her quill tapping meditatively on the edge of the Quibbler. For this mission, timing was of utmost importance, and the both of them had to operate like a well-oiled machine.

Ron merely raised a dubious eyebrow and nodded silently, while Hermione mirrored Ron's nod.

"Do you have anyone else helping you in this?" Hermione asked.

"Neville is helping us as well, but he will only come in in the later stages. For now…" Luna trailed off, letting the corner of her lips quirking up in that cheeky and cryptic beam of hers before she continued breezily.

"We're just going to land Harry in the infirmary, that's all."


	6. Eventuality

**Hardly Rational by xErised**

**Eventuality **

* * *

The pinnacle of blond was pacing in his room, an inadvertent frown knitting itself contemplatively between his eyebrows, his arms crossed across his chest and two sheets of parchment caught in his palm. Draco gnawed uncharacteristically at the flap of skin at the knuckle of his thumb and finally, in a fit of restlessness, Draco sighed and straightened the parchment out.

The List had arrived in the morning post during breakfast. Apparently, there had been this entire behind-the-scenes plan concocted by Potter and company to… _woo_ him, if that word was applicable to this bizarre situation. Horribly, horribly unconventional, Draco thought wryly and snorted unceremoniously when he saw _7) Steal Draco's underwear and keep it as hostage for a date _written neatly in a spidery handwriting that was not Potter's.

But it had worked, to a certain extent; Draco had vacillated between punching the daylights out of Potter, wanting to sink down to his knees in Potions class and giving Potter the blowjob of his life and simply… just _talking_ to the other boy, just like how he did in those cold wintry nights in the Slytherin dormitories, when Potter had been Puffy, as simple and uncomplicated as that.

Obviously everything had been carefully orchestrated by Lovegood, if that was anything that Draco had to go on. The steps in The List had jumped and ricocheted all over the place, ranging from an innocent conversation, a sneakily-smuggled sex diary and an impressive display of Animagus magic that had been the crux of the whole plan. The scheme combined subtle and not-so-subtle antics, and on hindsight, it was a rather interesting plan, Draco admitted grudgingly. The usual routes of flowers, cloying love letters and saccharine chocolates would never have appealed to Draco, and Lovegood's method had definitely succeeded in catching Draco's attention, be it sexual or non-sexual.

Next, Draco flipped to the back of The List and the second sheet of parchment which contained scribbled handwriting that Draco knew belonged to Potter. Lovegood had instructed Potter to chart his progress together with the machinations of her plan. Draco had read Potter's narrative greedily, his heart doing a crescendo of tap-dancing frenzy with every lovelorn word. Potter had been economical in the beginning, voicing out his uncertainty in roping Lovegood's help, but as time passed, Potter's paragraphs began longer and longer, and Draco had to bite back a blossoming smile when he realized the extent of the other boy's affections.

Of course, it had all culminated to The Punch, as Potter like to sadly call it, and there ensued a rather soap-opera-like recounting of events which made Draco feel genuinely bad, really he did, but honestly, what did Potter have to gain from having the utter gall to steal his underwear, of all things?

_A date with you, isn't it? _

A mottled blush dusted the tops of Draco's cheeks accusingly as he rubbed his own jaw, the exact spot where he had punched Potter on his jaw.

And if this whirlwind of emotions and doubts churning in an endless swill in his belly wasn't enough, Lovegood had written today's date, a time and a location which Draco recognized as an abandoned classroom situated near the vicinity of the greenhouse.

The stipulated time was eleven o'clock at night.

It was now ten forty-five.

Draco worried his lower lip again, his wary mind pulsing cautiously with what could lurk in the classroom; Potter apologizing for the underwear debacle and professing his love for him, something which Draco was definitely not in the right state of mind for right now? Or was he going to face a showdown with Lovegood? It was Lovegood's handwriting, after all. Or would it be Potter, wearing nothing but a pair of fuck-me jeans and waiting to do precisely _that_ to Draco?

Draco groaned as he felt his cock spring up shrieking SHAG ME, POTTER!

_Sod it._

With that, Draco jutted his jaw out combatively, grabbed his cloak, tucked the parchment in his pockets, ignored the quizzical glances from his housemates and scuttled off to the classroom, his heart thudding sonorously in his chest and the possibilities of tonight whirring like windmills in the trapdoor of his mind.

_I'll be on my knees and crawling to your crucifix-_

The moon was lost in the canopy of overfed clouds and gossamer stars that twinkled like flamboyant children down at Draco. Draco shivered and wrapped his coat tighter around his shoulders and fastened his pace. His lips were compressed into a thin, yielding line, the curious grey in his eyes matching the clouds in the landscape beyond. Although every stride was full of confident intent, Draco felt wrong-footed and thrown hopelessly off-kilter. Lovegood's plan was irritatingly Slytherin, Draco realized with a jolt of surprise. Enough to tempt Draco with a glimpse into the workings of Potter's heart, enough to drive Draco crazy with the seemingly-senseless things that Lovegood made the Gryffindor perform, but yet there was no rhythm, no distinct, clear-cut step that followed. The plan had made Draco ransack his brain to figure out the next move that Potter would execute, and when it boiled down to things, Draco _didn't know what to expect. _

_in my state of midnight and skin-_

And that was the dangerous bit.

_because I don't know what to think-_

It didn't take long before he reached his destination. Draco stole silently towards the door, which was held coquettishly ajar, but froze when he heard Potter's voice, fringed with agitation. His guard raised to the hilt, Draco flattened himself tightly against the door and peered inwards surreptitiously. The scene before him caused Draco's eyebrows to shoot up and his eyes to widen to the size of dinner plates.

Harry Potter was talking to a plant.

"And now, I'm at a loss, really. I thought he had relented a bit, you know, when he saw through my underwear ruse that day, and… God, I don't know. I'm just so confused right now. His words and his actions clearly mean that he isn't interested, but that split second before he punched me, and that night, that night at Hogsmeade, there was something, a spark, however clichéd you might find it, between us that I can't explain that tells me that yes, he fancies me too!" Harry explained vehemently, his words spiraling upwards with emotion. He sighed heavily and thrust a hand in his black locks. He shrugged and raised his palms expectantly towards the plant that was sitting primly on the windowsill.

Draco squinted and leant further forward, not believing his eyes. It was as though Potter was… waiting for a response from the plant.

"Well, dear boy, from what you've told me, you obviously have done a lot to chase this Draco person, and I don't see why anyone else would reject your advances, you seem like a perfectly sweet and genuine boy who has fallen mercy to the succumbs of the human heart, ah, what a meddlesome organ, isn't it, the human heart, oh do _excuse_ me-"

A quaint shuffling sound and a suspicious little whisper emitted from the plant. It really was a rather incongruous plant; it was a refreshing colorful change from the bleak and dusty background of the classroom. It had five fire-engine red petals, resplendent with trickles of golden sparkles at the perimeter of the petals which caught the moonlight and glinted happily at Harry. The plant had a chocolate-brown core right in the middle, reminiscent of a sunflower.

It really was a beautiful flower.

The petals quivered enticingly in the wind's caress when the plant managed a reply. Draco inched forward. Its voice contained nuances of a human's voice, rather high-pitched and gurgled. It was a curious sort of voice that Draco couldn't explain, it was like describing color to a blind man, it just couldn't be done. However, the plant's words were as clear as day, and Draco could easily make out most of the plant's side of the conversation.

Peculiar.

But Draco's interest was piqued, why wouldn't it be, Potter was talking about him, wasn't he? Draco looked down at his shoes and curled his toes, trying to suppress the goosebumps welling up jarringly like pins and needles on his skin.

"Are you… alright? I mean, it's quite strange isn't it? Me discussing my disgraceful love life to a plant, but it _is _Hogwarts, and I've been here for the better part of my life so nothing comes as a surprise anymore," Harry mumbled self-deprecatingly and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Luna told me to come down, and I thought that I would be… meeting him and talking things over with him, but here you are, this weird little flower that _talks_. I thought Luna would be behind this, but Hermione told me that she just left the Ravenclaw tower and that Luna's in her room, doing her artsy things, so I guess… I guess you have to be genuine, don't you? I reckon Luna knows about your… existence and maybe she thought that I needed a listening ear that didn't consist of Ron and Hermione, honestly, I think they've had enough of me mooning on and on about Draco already. Bloody hell, I've had enough of _myself_ going on and on about him in my head, but I just can't stop, you know. And it doesn't help that he's mad at me now. He's like a bloody unattainable ice statue, honestly," At this point Harry let out an ill-concealed huff of irritation and shook his head slightly.

Draco blinked and looked at Harry, no, not just a glimpse, not a glare, a proper look at this boy, this boy with intense emerald eyes shining fiercely with passion _i colored you a valentine, so please won't you be mine- _and righteousness through his fringe which had tufts of hair poking all over the place, this boy that was so _awkwardly in love_ with him, and it felt as though someone had carelessly popped open a bottle of frothy Butterbeer in him, and it was fizzing over, strangely enough, all over his heart, messy, sticky and _sweet_-

"Do excuse me, sometimes the fertilizer goes the wrong way down my stem," the plant tutted apologetically and quickly continued. "Sometimes we all need a nudge in the right direction. You seem to have shown a considerable amount of sexual and emotional interest, so maybe… he just needs to hear a verbal confession to drive it all home," the plant piped up wisely. "Why don't you tell me what you want him to hear? Pretend that he's here, and talk to him. Strip away everything that you have done for the past few weeks and _tell him_ what you feel towards him, and _mean_ it, right from the bottom of your heart."

Harry tipped his head to one side and pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"Well, he's not here anyway, is he, so I guess I'll just speak my mind," Harry started, recovered from his slouching position and exhaled loudly. "I don't like what I'm turning into, this pile of mushy sweet nothings when it comes to him, but I just can't control it. I can't control whatever I feel when it comes to him and that's just downright startling.

"At Madam Malkin's, when I was first introduced into Hogwarts and magic, he was there, yes, snobby, pointy and overall, a pain in the bloody arse, but he left an impression on me. And all the way throughout my school years, god, he was always there, hovering in the background and pissing me off at every opportunity, but there's always been a spark of interest about his life, about the Malfoys, about him in that big, secretive, untouchable mansion of his. It's never been the middle ground when it comes to my feelings for him, even before I discovered that I was gay. It's always been the extremes, and just a single word from him, a supercilious look from him, Merlin, it's able to get my blood pressure ratcheting up.

"And when I look back and laugh at our past few years, I realized that no one, not Ginny, not Cho, no one else has been able to trigger that much emotion in me, and it… scares me, up to this day, when I realized that I've developed feelings for him, and it doesn't help that he's so sodding bloody gorgeous it should be made illegal, bloody hell. I don't have any hidden motives, if that's what he's fretting over. The whole saga with Voldemort, the Death Eaters, Azkaban, it's all over, and I clearly don't bear any sort of grudge towards him.

"And then Luna transformed me into this silly little rabbit called Puffy and I saw a different side of Draco, a side that doesn't sneer and doesn't come armed with glib and snide comments poised on the tip of his tongue, a side that talks about his childhood and his parents and his disappointments and his hopes, his dreams and I realized that I want to tell Draco about my own parents, my own hopes and my dreams, but I can't, because I'm hiding behind a bloody rabbit!" Harry paused and let his hands drop limply to his sides. His torrent of words had been tripping clumsily over themselves, as though a dam had been blasted open.

"I want him, Plant. I want him so bad, and not just sexually. I want to _be_ with him, because I have this voice in my heart telling me that we can make it, _we can make it_, and I keep thinking of what we could be if only he would let me, but… God, this is the first time I'm saying this out loud. My heart's tired. I've never been patient, and my hope, my patience, they're all wearing thin. Those feelings, those hopeful little sparks that I've gotten so sparingly from him, it's not enough anymore. I need something explicit, something clear to know that I've gotten the nod from him, to know that I'm going towards the right direction. I've received nothing but rejection from him, and I think… I think it's over, isn't it?" Harry finished sadly and let out a small hollow laugh.

Draco's head jerked up suddenly, Harry's parting words like trickles of ice-cold rainwater drip-dropping down his shoulder blades. Alarm flittered precariously through his nerves.

"I'm not going to do anything more, and besides, from what I've seen, Luna's list is basically completed. I've done all that I can, and I guess… I guess this is his answer," Harry murmured, a hand going up unconsciously to graze at the bruise that Draco's punch left on his jaw.

_He really really likes me. _

Harry's speech was imprinted on the jotterbook of Draco's heart, each word messing up the original clear-cut black-and-white divisions of his feelings. Guilt prickled at his heart, guilt at not just punching Potter, but at how he had played the other boy, waiting and watching to see how this little charade would turn out, guilt at how he kept trying to ignore his feelings for Harry because that was what he was best at, wasn't it, turning a blind eye to almost everything emotional, even when he had been a child?

It was the Malfoy way of upbringing.

_And I think… Salazar, I think I like him back too. _

But regardless of it all, he couldn't imagine being lovers with Potter.

Not yet.

"That must have taken a lot out of you, and I hope you do feel better after voicing out all of that. I can't do anything for you except listen when things get hard, but I hope Draco realizes what a star you are and grabs you before it's too late," the plant cooed reassuringly, its petals feathering gently in the breeze. It paused delicately and then burst suddenly into a cheerful trill.

"And of course, if there is _anyone_ else around here that needs a listening ear in the fragile affairs of the heart, I'll be here! How silly of me to announce that, isn't it, when I'm _obviously_ stuck here since I'm a plant and since there _clearly _isn't anyone else here, is there?"

Draco's eyes narrowed into slits as he absorbed the implied meaning of the plant's last words and quickly applied his trademark emotional brakes, bundled his feelings up neatly and stowed it away. He turned sharply on his heel and stormed off, his footsteps like bullet shots to Harry's heart. He knew he could simply step in the classroom and make things right with Harry this very second, but no. It wasn't the time now.

Besides, he had had enough for one night.

* * *

"You've been caught up in your role, haven't you, Luna?" Neville chortled after Harry had left shortly after Draco departed.

"All in a day's work," Luna bubbled and performed the charm on her wand that reversed Neville's spell. The both of them grunted and stretched from their hiding spot at the greenhouse.

"But wow, Harry and Malfoy? I would never have seen that coming in a million years!" Neville exclaimed, shaking his head in awe while he packed up the single string that linked Luna's wand to the potted flower. He also plucked the plant neatly from the windowsill and packed it lovingly away to a secret spot in the greenhouse.

Luna had approached Neville a while before, enlisting the help of his green thumb in her grand scheme. She had been close-lipped about the specifics of her plan, but Neville had followed Luna's instructions willingly and done what she had requested. Luna had dreamt up of an idea where Draco caught Harry confessing his true feelings verbally to some_thing_ that was not some_one_ because that might complicate the logistics of things, and the some_thing _had to be able to talk back to Harry. An appointed time and place had to be set for Draco to eavesdrop, and Luna decided that the object would be a flower.

Neville had turned things over in his mind for a few days, before coming up with a spell that would disguise her voice appropriately. A piece of charmed string was the physical link that joined her wand, which acted as a microphone to the flower. Another amplifier-like spell was embedded into the flower to project her voice. Luna's request for the flower had been simple; as bright, ostentatious and as eye-catching as possible. The golden sparkles on the petals had been the icing on the cake, and it took a very long time to perfect it, just so that it didn't overpower the crimson petals or cause the whole flower to droop, but… anything for Luna.

Neville blushed shyly and sneaked a sideways glance at the Ravenclaw who was currently humming dreamily and rocking herself back and forth on the soles of her feet.

Neville had been worried when Harry had frowned suspiciously at the flower initially, but apparently his need to offload everything weighed more than his suspicions. Neville had spotted Draco's blond head peeking through the door the minute he appeared and had quickly informed Luna. Judging by how smoothly things had gone and how frazzled Draco had been when he thundered off, the hard work had been worth it.

But the best had yet to come.

* * *

**8) Plan X**

Luna straightened the Gryffindor lion hat on her head and cheered heartily on the Quidditch stands, her shouts drowned out by the buoyant atmosphere around her. Her fingers fidgeted on the edges of her battered copy of _The Quibbler_ as her eyes pinioned a particular Bludger that was hovering innocuously in the Quidditch match.

It was Gryffindor vs. Slytherin.

Potter vs. Malfoy.

Luna's eyes sought out Hermione at the Gryffindor stands. Their eyes met and Hermione arched an eyebrow questioningly.

Luna nodded serenely.

The Ravenclaw saw Hermione slip her wand from her pocket and mutter an apology to Harry between gritted teeth. With that, Luna hooked her eyes on the Bludger and saw it judder sharply to life. Spurred on by an accidental tap from a wayward broom, the Bludger began to accelerate, its path of trajectory following Hermione's wishes.

It was homing in on Draco Malfoy.

Unbeknownst to him, Draco swiped his hair away from his cheeks, bent down low on his broom and kicked off, his sharp-as-switchblades eyes seeking out the elusive Snitch. Harry was lingering on the other side of the field and was working his way towards the middle, and Draco knew that he was doing the same. He puffed his cheeks out and exhaled. He hesitantly dragged his eyes away from Harry and tried not to stare too much at the other boy's arse.

A Bludger that was a bit too close for comfort hurtled towards Draco and he dodged it neatly. He thought no more of it, trusting that one of the Slytherin Beaters would take care of it. Sure enough, a Slytherin Beater swerved near to the Bludger and aimed it to another Gryffindor Chaser.

It was strange how the Bludger gave a funny little shudder and whizzed itself predatorily back towards Draco. Panic rising in him like a high-speed elevator, Draco quickly turned and shot off, his head craned backwards to check whether the Bludger was still zooming behind him.

It was.

"Harry!" Ron howled and jerked his head towards a fleeing Malfoy. Harry gasped in consternation at the rogue Bludger and charged off towards Draco, his search for the Snitch completely abandoned. The wind whistled in his ears and adrenaline spiked in his blood as he gained altitude. He was approaching Draco face-on, with the Bludger close on Draco's heels. Draco shook his head wildly at Harry and dipped towards the ground, wanting Harry out of the way and unhurt.

"Brace yourself!" Harry yelled and tackled Draco's shoulder roughly, effectively hurling Draco out of the danger path and placing himself in the line of Bludger's attack. Draco quickly recovered his equilibrium and righted himself and was just in time to see the Bludger slam itself mercilessly into Harry's left shoulder. With echoing horror seeping into his mind, a flabbergasted Draco watched helplessly as a painful cry tore out from Harry's throat, his left hand losing its grip on the broom. It all happened so fast, and Draco could only watch as Harry's limp body flopped downwards.

Ron, who had been watching the scene unfold before him and knew that it was _now_, galvanized into action and sped off towards his friend. His hawkish eyes were trained onto Harry's falling figure and in mere seconds, Ron caught Harry messily in his arms. Ron's arms and his broomstick staggered under the extra weight, and Ron threw a concerned look towards Harry's beloved broomstick and heaved a sigh of relief when it gradually lost speed and landed carefully on the ground, no doubt caused by Hermione's handiwork.

With that, Ron and Hermione both looked at Luna, who nodded and beamed beatifically.

The trio let out a collective sigh.

It had gone off without a hitch.

Now it depended on whether Draco would take the bait.

* * *

Draco poked his head abruptly into the infirmary.

Harry was asleep in bed. Scattered around him were sugary treats that the other Gryffindors had supplied and an unkempt pile of parchment accompanied with a handful of textbooks, courtesy of Granger. He crossed over towards the slumbering Harry and noiselessly placed a fruit basket on the nearby table. This was the first time that he was visiting Harry after the Bludger incident, and Draco was sure that that had something to do with Lovegood and her ghastly ideas.

Didn't she know that the Bludger could have inflicted so much more damage on Harry?

He had been a bag of nerves for the past few days, not seeing Harry during classes and breakfast and worrying over the boy. Draco knew that Harry was in the infirmary, of course, but he just didn't know why he had been so averse to visiting him.

Until now.

Draco loomed over a snoring Harry. A dreamy sigh slipped accidentally out from Draco as his eyes took a slow tour of Harry's face. A shaft of moonlight illuminated Harry's handsome features; the soft slopes of his closed eyes, framed by delicate, un-Harry eyelashes. Draco felt a sudden frisson of arousal and thrill buzzing in his veins, and for once, he didn't try to package it away. This was the silly boy who had managed to crack open his heart bit by bit like a jailbreaker, and as his eyes trailed down to Harry's full flirtatious set of cherry lips, Draco could feel himself, out of his own accord, leaning down towards Harry, his arms supporting the weight of his body by grasping the headboard of the bed. Not even daring to breathe, Draco flickered his eyes closed _he's asleep, he doesn't need to know that this had ever happened- _and positioned his lips mere inches from Harry's.

Harry's eyes suddenly popped open, those desirable raspberry cupid lips forming into a sly smile.

"Hey, baby."

Draco squawked and reared back like a threatened pony.

Undeterred, Harry sat up in bed, puckered his lips up shamelessly and waited expectantly for his reward. A ripple of annoyance surged in grey eyes as swiftly as quicksilver, and Draco reached towards his fruit basket and bonked Harry over the head with an orange, much to Harry's chagrin.

"Potter, you… you _git_! No one asked you to do that for me!" Draco yelped, gesturing madly to Harry's injury and impaling Harry with a withering look. Deflated, Harry's playful pout wilted on his lips and he sank back sadly to his pillows.

"You're welcome, anyway," Harry mumbled, yanked the blankets over him with some difficulty and turned his back on Draco plaintively.

Draco stared at a reticent Harry. What was he playing at, ignoring him all of a sudden?

_-received nothing but rejection from him!_

_..._

"I like you too, okay! I like you, I like you, I like you, I like you, _I like you_!" Draco snarled hotly, his hands squeezed into fists. Spots of flustered pink were in his cheeks.

Harry catapulted up in bed, wincing slightly as he placed too much weight on his arm.

They both stared at each other, speechless.

A click of awkward silence ensued.

"And with that, good night," Draco drew himself up to his full height, clawed back whatever vestiges of pride and decorum that he could muster, threw one last look at a stunned Harry and stalked out. He hated how he sounded like a helpless young boy, hated how it was a chink in his façade of polite invulnerability and most of all, hated how dangerously emotional he had been just seconds ago.

"Wait, Draco, _wait_!"

Not looking back, Draco picked up his pace and hurried off, turning sharply into corridors here and there, and only dared to slow down when it was obvious that Harry was no longer tailing him. Draco sighed and felt the initial anxiety ebb away from the rigid set of his shoulders.

He looked around.

It seemed that he had made his way near the greenhouse, which also meant that he was near the classroom where the plant/pseudo-love guru was housed. _Oh, what the hell_, Draco thought, threw his hands up helplessly and beetled towards the classroom. _I've bloody gone and confessed to Potter, I've let him steal my sodding underwear and I've punched him, so I might as well have a bloody heart-to-heart with a plant to wrap things up. _

Doubt nibbling away at his composure, Draco pushed open the creaky door and entered the musty old classroom. The flower was still there. Draco stood waveringly in front of it.

Draco cleared his throat dubiously.

There was that strange shuffling sound again, but this time there seemed to be a girly squeak emanating from the area further behind the windowsill. Draco frowned and advanced towards the direction of the squeak, but was stopped in his tracks by the flower crackling to life.

"Good evening, may I be of any assistance?" The flower chimed.

"Right. Well, erm, I'm Draco Malfoy, the Draco that the other boy, the one with the black hair and green eyes-" Draco cut himself off and paused, wondering if the flower had eyes to see Draco's verbal description of Harry in the first place.

"Ah, _that_ Draco! Well, I must say, it's hardly inviting for you to keep pushing the poor boy around like that. It's very discouraging, well, I should know, there's this gorgeous snapdragon all the way in Greenhouse Four, with the most _brilliant_ colors and a really, really big _stem_, if you know what I mean," the flower tittered girlishly.

There was an awkward pause.

"As I was saying…" Draco continued loudly. "He saved me from the Bludger, and I guess… I guess that has to mean something important, doesn't it? I think I needed an incident like this to… _spur_ me into action, if you would like me to spell it out like that. I tried to kiss him when he was sleeping, and I… I just wanted to see how it would feel, you know! Maybe it's some sort of trick, maybe he's not being serious at all, maybe it's just a novelty that'll wear off some day in the near future," Draco knew that he was rambling and deep down he knew that his last words definitely did not ring true.

"Everybody leaves, don't they?" Draco whispered softly. "My parents. My friends. After Voldemort, everything just fell to pieces, and even now, the rest of them… they look at me differently now, and Merlin, I don't know how to say it, but what if… what if I do end up with him and he… _leaves_? What if we invest so much time, so much emotion, so much… _effort_ into everything, and everything blows up into our faces eventually, then… then you're just going to end up at square one again, won't you? Marooned away like an emotional island, but this time, it's worse. It's worse because…" Draco trailed off, his thoughts twanging all over the place like pinballs pinging in machines.

"It's worse because you've got memories. Memories that just won't go _away_ no matter how much you try to push it back into that trapdoor of your mind, but… _Merlin_," Draco stopped his staccatoed words suddenly, his eyes steeped in silver evasion. He wearily raised a hand up to his forehead and rubbed his thumb and forefinger at the sides of his temples.

"I really believe in love. But after everything that's happened, after everything that I've seen, I'm just too skeptical, too… wary, too cynical to bother with it. I certainly don't love Potter yet, that's mad, I've never even had a decent conversation with him yet! But I think… I think he's defrosting me in that silly… _bunny_ way of his," Draco admitted, sneaking a small, half-smile at that thought.

"Stop being afraid of what could go wrong and think of what could go right for once, Draco. You're guarding your heart like it's a box of jewels. You're guarding your words like they're gold dust. Isn't it tiring, Draco, this… sitting on the edge of the pavement, chin on your knees and waiting for people to find out miraculously how you feel deep down inside? Aren't you tired of ransoming your affections, dear? Because Harry's losing patience, and I don't think you can blame him, can you?" The plant said gently, and Draco blinked.

"Maybe… maybe if he just told me what he felt, even though he's too shy to say it in person, so I reckon that he could have written it in a letter. I just want to know what he's been playing at, right from the start. Without the whole Animagus deception, the whole underwear fiasco, without the whole rigmarole, I think that would have helped greatly," Draco concluded quietly.

"_What_? What, seriously? As in, _really_?"

"You're supposed to be in _bed_, what in Merlin's _name_ are you doing here! And… and how much did you hear?" Draco bawled in horror and backed away. But Harry had covered the distance between them in two easy strides and had his palms clamped down on Draco's shoulders.

"All I needed to do was to write you a _sodding_ letter and I would have had you already? Is that what you're telling me?" Harry said in astonishment.

"Of course not! I'm not that easy to get," Draco said pointedly, his voice slightly jerky and his cheeks throbbing with blood at Harry's touch. "Perhaps it would have made things easier, both for me and you, but well… Lovegood's plan… it was rather… interesting," Draco finished and threw a curious look at the flower, which had suddenly gone all silent. Draco dragged his eyes up to Harry's lips, those lips like roses and tongue like satin. Draco's burnished cheeks flamed even further when he thought of the unkissed kiss.

"I'm serious about you. I really am. Please believe me. Please," Harry murmured with that heartbreaker grin poised on his lips, and Draco turned away from Harry's gouging gaze, maintaining his usual reticence. Refusing to be unacknowledged, Harry firmly, but gently slid his hands up to the sides of Draco's neck.

"I'm in love with you, so _please,_ fall in love with me too," Harry confessed all over again. "I know your concerns, I know where you're coming from. I can't promise you a smooth-sailing relationship without our own differences and without arguments and fights, you and I both clearly know our track record," Harry let out a small laugh, "But what I can promise you is that I will never _ever_ intentionally hurt you. As long as you're staying, I'm trying."

Draco tried to summon up a flippant drawl at this explosion of mushiness radiating from the other boy, but he just simply couldn't. Harry's words were like an unfurling of kisses glowing all over his heart, and Draco felt his tense expression fade away, his inhibitions melting like lemon drops.

"Will you still turn into a bunny for me if I want you to?" Draco asked quietly, still not willing _fractured tongue but crinkle-cut smile- _to meet Harry's questing eyes.

"_Always_."

And the most brilliant, the most dazzling smile burst onto Draco's lips like a firework, a smile that ought to be framed up in a museum. It was like a Muggle Polaroid gradually shifting into focus, and Harry's smile practically matched Draco's grin in radiance.

_you're quite lickable after all- _

"So will you… you know… be my… boyfriend?" Harry asked ineptly, not daring _the million-dollar question on your lips- _to believe what was happening right now. Green eyes brimmed with sparkle and promise.

His reply was an apprehensive nod, but still a nod nonetheless.

Harry jumped high up in the air like he had a spring released under his feet and whooped loudly.

"You don't have to be so thrilled about it, Potter," Draco said finally, biting his lower lip and flattening his cheeks in an attempt to disguise his smile.

"But I'm thrilled! I'm really thrilled! I'm thrilled to bits, Draco!" Harry roared elatedly. Next, he stared intently at Draco, his eyes glued mesmerizingly on Draco's face. Sensing possible danger, Draco inched away, but Harry quickly hurled himself with abandon into Draco's arms, who squealed like a piglet.

"Baby doll!"

"You sappy Gryffindor!"

"LOVE NUGGET!"

"Get off me!"

An appalled Draco closed an eye and shifted away in Harry's embrace, but Harry only hugged him tighter. Draco sighed and felt the tension in his body dissipate like morning mist. He closed his eyes and rested his head on Harry's shoulder. Both boys blushed deeply, grins leaking out uncontrollably from their mouths.

Well, it does feel rather nice…

Draco felt Harry's hand surreptitiously working its way down his waist to his bum.

"Don't push your luck, Potter," Draco remarked dryly.

Harry's hand immediately scuttled back to the safe waters of Draco's back.

There was a muffled, but a sharp piercing sound, like a shriek of laughter, emitting from the flower and a short distance away. It sounded strangely like cheers.

"What was that?" Draco wondered and pulled away from Harry.

"Just my _leaves_ getting in the way, nothing much at all," the flower piped up. "It's just so touching, isn't it, to see two young boys finally letting the power of love take hold of them-"

"Luna," Harry said, grinning.

"I knew you'd figure it out one way or another," the flower sighed but perked up. "Oh, I've enjoyed this so much! I've been the one masquerading as the flower that's been dispensing all of this love advice, Neville's been brilliant with the flower and spells for this, Hermione's been skulking around the infirmary, and when she saw Draco, she immediately notified us and we set this up as fast as we could, and oh, Ron's here too, and _such_ a good Quidditch player too! I think we deserve our bows in this finale, don't we?"

There was another crackling sound, and Harry could hear Ron and Hermione's laughter in the distance. Both Harry and Draco moved nearer to the windowsill and squinted in the direction of the greenhouse. There was a loud rustling sound and four figures emerged triumphantly from a particularly well-weeded flower bed. With their innocence running wild and their planning finally coming to fruition, Hermione, Neville, Ron and Luna bowed deeply and dramatically. Harry guffawed heartily and gave them a thumbs-up, while Draco raised a hand weakly in greeting.

"We'll be on our way there, mate, don't move!" Ron shouted while Neville started to pack up. Harry nodded back. It didn't take long before the four of them meandered their way out of the greenhouse and into the classroom. Their knees and elbows were stained with soil, and Hermione's hair seemed even frizzier than normal. The flower that had started it all in this classroom was clutched protectively in Luna's hand.

"Life isn't complicated. It's _us_ who make it complicated," Luna remarked sagely and flashed Draco a simplistic smile. With that, she passed the flower delicately to Harry and indicated Draco with her eyes. Getting the hint, Harry grinned, took Draco's hand in his and pressed the flower into his palm.

"Take good care of it, and may you think of the four of us when things get hard. I hope that this will be a reminder of the effort that we have put in to get the two of you together and the amount of effort that not just you, Draco, but the both of you have to put in to keep this relationship alive," Luna said, her eyes twinkling not unlike Dumbledore's.

"Thanks. Really," Draco murmured gratefully.

"We will. Don't worry," Harry assured. "I owe you all a good meal. Next trip to Hogsmeade will be on me!"

* * *

"Luna?"

"Yes, Neville?"

"You know, Harry did mention that we'll be going out to Hogsmeade together, all six of us?"

"Yes?"

"Would you… would you like to be my date for the night?"

"That's an absolutely delightful question, Neville, but would you steal my knickers first?"

* * *

Draco threaded his fingers casually through the fine black fur of his rabbit.

"Honestly, Harry, Snape has mentioned this so many times in class," Draco clucked his tongue disapprovingly and circled an incorrect word on Harry's Potions essay. In response, the bunny widened his eyes adorably and nuzzled happily into Draco's palm. However, Harry quickly changed tack and wriggled under the hem of Draco's shirt, a particularly lascivious expression on his features. He began to slyly rub his round, furry bunny bum on Draco's crotch.

"Stop that, if not I'll get Goyle to sit on you," Draco remarked dryly as he flipped to the next page of Harry's essay.

The rubbing ceased immediately.

Draco rolled his eyes heavenwards, folded the parchment and placed it on the bedside table.

"Remind me again why I'm your boyfriend of two months?" Draco asked. The bunny hopped off Draco's bed and transformed effortlessly back to Harry.

"Because I cuddle really well?" Harry ventured cheekily and proceeded to do just that.

"Mmmm… I see what you mean now. But anyway, cuddles aside, I have a bone to pick with you. We never did have a chance to talk about this in the flurry of honeymoon romance," Draco said sternly and pulled out two items which Harry immediately recognized; Luna's List and Harry's sex diary.

"I have an issue with this," Draco picked up the sex diary and flipped to the desired portion of the diary. "Do you honestly think my pride would make me say things like 'you're the only one in this world that can make me mad with desire, don't you dare stop, you sexy fuckable shaggable piece of arse!'" Draco huffed and stabbed viciously at the pages.

"But, Draco, you said that last night!"

"I most _certainly_ did not, you were hallucinating!" Draco quickly covered up and riffled wildly through the following pages. "And look at this one! What is this, Harry? 'Put all of it in me, every inch and make me feel good, you big _bad_ boy with sex on a stick!' What have you got to say for yourself?" Draco said crossly, folding his arms sternly.

"I actually thought you would be more pissed about the stripper fantasy!"

"The stripper… oh, _that _one! I mean, that particular one wasn't that bad…" Draco said, blushing furiously.

"Merlin, Draco, you're actually alright with that?" Harry said, his eyes round. He let out a chime of pervert laughter. "I'll order a costume for you as soon as possible, don't worry, and I strongly believe in reality being better than fantasy," Harry affirmed, winking dirtily at Draco.

"Stop being so bloody cheeky!" Draco roared, aghast, and began to bash the side of Harry's face with his diary.

_you can see that I want you by the way I push you away- _

"Well now that's out of the way," Draco cleared his throat. "I've been doing some thinking. I think that you've gotten quite a fair amount of embarrassment in the pursuit of chasing me. So to even it all out…" Draco pushed the list towards Harry. Harry noticed that numbers one, two, five and seven were circled.

"Starting a conversation with you would be a bit strange at this stage of our relationship, but I reckon this'll do," Draco said softly and leaned towards Harry. Draco traced his tongue teasingly around the rim of Harry's lips and began to kiss the other boy proper. He was about to pull away when Harry protested.

"Your rejection traumatized me for life, so I obviously need more," Harry remarked playfully and pushed Draco down on the bed, kissing him deeper. Draco gave Harry one last lick and firmly pushed Harry away.

"We've got mention of your Animagus lessons here, and I can't do that, so I'll just do the next best thing, and yes, this is the most embarrassing thing that I've done, but it's for you…" Draco wrinkled his nose and pulled out a set of furry bunny ears from his bag. It was mainly white, but the inside of the ears were bright pink.

"Promise me that you won't laugh," Draco instructed.

"I can't," Harry refused, feeling burbles of glee welling up in him even before Draco had put them on.

Letting out a long-suffering sigh, Draco primly placed the bunny ears on his head as though it was a jeweled crown.

That was more than enough for Harry; Harry was bent over with laughter, his guffaws ringing around Draco's curtained room. He laughed so hard until he was wheezing.

"I'll keep this on for the rest of the night," Draco announced and finally let his shoulders sag at the embarrassment of it all.

"Oh Draco, it's really sweet of you," Harry caught his breath and quickly recovered.

But it only took one look at bunny-eared Draco to set Harry off him into a fit of giggles.

Draco pursed his lips, deciding magnanimously to ignore Harry's outburst.

"You've left a quarter of your sex diary empty, so I've taken the liberty to fill them up with _my_ fantasies, if you get what I mean. Read it when you've got the time, and maybe I could be the one having my fantasies delivered to me for a change," Draco winked slyly and handed the diary over to Harry, but not before shooting Harry the most sexually potent look in his arsenal of extreme sexiness.

_because I'll tie my sunshine hair up into a ponytail and let you play with it- _

"Last, but definitely not least, I know you're still holding my underwear as hostage, which is completely unfair because we've been on enough dates. You know which pair I'm talking about, the red one with green at the sides," Draco declared and eyed Harry beadily, who shot Draco a shifty look. "I've decided to let you keep it, since I know you fancy it that much. But do me a favor, will you? Wear it someday, so I'll know how good _you_ look in it," Draco finished, one side of his lips hiking up in a playful grin.

Harry looked at Draco's lips, those thin lips that could snarl heartbreakingly at him and inflict heart-stopping kisses and smiles at him. Draco placed a hand on Harry's arm and squeezed _my touches are the words that I can't tell you- _it fondly, his caress as warm as fresh bread.

"I know you say mushy things to me when I'm asleep," Harry whispered confidentially, much to Draco's horror.

"I do _not_! It's bad enough that you're blind as a bat without your glasses, but it appears that you are deaf too," Draco spluttered indignantly. Harry grinned back. He knew there were times when Draco could be all prickly, just like a small blond hedgehog, but the prickly side of him only made Harry treasure Draco's soft side.

"The only thing I want you to know is that whenever you say mushy things to me, it makes me really, really happy. And that's all that matters, isn't it?" Harry said, a gooey smile settling on his mouth.

And then it dawned on Draco that they might not have the grandest, the flashiest and the most perfect love story. The fights were dramatic, painful and emotional, but Draco took solace in the fact that regardless how many conflicts that they were mired in, how many angry words had been exchanged, all it took was a heartfelt apology from the both of them and a touching kiss for them to realize _why they had fallen in love with each other in the first place_.

They knew how to make each other happy.

And as Harry had put it so clearly, _that was all that mattered_.

* * *

**/fin**

It's finally done. I cannot believe that I took one year to finish this, what with starting my first year at university and all. I hope that the readers enjoyed the story, and I'm currently working on my next HPDM story called _Blood Debt_, which is truly nothing like I've ever done before, so I'm just bubbling over with excitement for it.

I can't promise when the first chapter will be up and whether updates will be regular since school will be starting at August, but the plot for _Blood Debt _is basically sketched out, so do pop me on your Author's Alert if you fancy my writing and want to keep yourself updated.

Once again, thanks so much for sticking with _Hardly Rational _from start to end.


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